The Rise of Man
by Tien Shenhan
Summary: The North Kingdoms' Budokai has finally arrived. Join Mercenary Toas' finest student as he prepares for the fight of his life. OC.
1. Day in the Sun

Chapter 1: Day in the Sun

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Dragonball or DragonBall Z. These great mangas are the exclusive property of Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation. However, Rolo Yeung and Fein are my original characters.

Master Yeung continued to walk down the sidewalks of West City determined to make it to his destination. Along the way, memories of an episode that occurred long ago between himself, Fein, and his teacher King Choppoa haunted him.

_It was the night of a crescent moon. In the central throne room of the holiest rite, two students kneeled before their most venerable sensei and mentor, the lion of martial arts, King Choppoa. _

"_Master, please teach me more," begged Yeung. "There is so much left for me learn. So many new plateaus to climb to."_

"_There is nothing left that this master can teach you my son," replied a slightly aged King Choppoa. "You have grown stronger in such a short period of tutelage than anyone thought possible. What I am doing now is for your own good."_

"_I do not understand master," replied Yeung. "If I have no guidance…."_

"_**You Will Be Well Boy!"**__ asserted Choppoa. "If you continue to train at the same level as my other students, you will never progress. Life has many lessons which you must learn. For the past six years I have instructed you in the art of Jujitsu and you have trained as though you care not whether you live or die. I fear that at this rate you might make the same mistake I made whilst I was in my prime."_

"_My detachment makes me strong!" shouted a very enraged Yeung. "My parents are dead! What is there for me out there? This temple is all I have!"_

"_My son," started Choppoa, "Your inability to have empathy may be your greatest strength but it will also prove to be your greatest weakness. What will you do when you have someone to protect and are unable to fear for that person's life? What will you do then?"_

"_Master…"_

"_Boy," continued Choppoa, "If you are ever to find yourself, you must go experience what the world has to offer you. If I should keep you here, you will never become a real man. Within these palace walls you will not learn this for yourself. I cannot teach you anymore."_

_Choppoa then turned to Fein who too was kneeling before him._

"_Young Fein," spoke Choppoa to his older student, "Though you hold seniority over Rolo, the same must be said for you."_

"_Master…"_

"_You trouble me," continued Choppoa. "Though your movements are second to none, I fear that this spiritual journey for you will not be enough. You are remarkably gifted and yet you waste your talent by being lazy."_

_At this Fein looked down in shame._

"_You continue to seek the easiest course in life as though it were the only one, and because of this you have missed out on valuable lessons, so for you I have a gift." The old martial arts king reached beneath his thrown and pulled out an aged something or other wrapped in silk. "Take this," implored Choppoa. "Inside is an ancient scroll writing containing the teachings of Daromon the wise. Daromon was one of only three students to survive King Piccolo's attack upon the fighting dojo of Mutaito. It is Daromon the wise from which all our monastery's teachings descend. Practice diligently and know always that the teachings of Kenpo are the greatest of all martial arts."_

_Fein looked upon the scroll in reverence until Choppoa's voice broke him from his revere._

"_Now go forth both of you," ordered King Choppoa._

"_Thank you Master," said Fein and Yeung in unison as they both kneeled before him one last time. The two of them got up and without a word left the monastery. Neither looked back as they walked out the front gate. _

Lost in thought, Yeung pushed past two young girls who had been playing hop-scotch on the sidewalk. His short legs not carrying him very fast, he sped up his stride, and quickly made his way down the streets in a somber mood.

The boy slowed down as he reached his destination. He shook his head out of the clouds before approaching the front of the building of interest. Yeung looked up at the sign that hung above the front doors of the homely looking building. It read 'West City Karate Dojo.' Hanging around the entrance of the place was a group of young roughnecks, possibly students. The lot were leaning against the pane glass windows that showcased the countless trophies that the school had acquired over the years

"Hey!"

Yeah, what do you want?" the biggest of the group asked snidely.

"I heard your sensei was incredibly strong so I wanted to fight him," answered Yeung. At this, the whole group of hooligans broke into a fit of laughter.

"Say what!" asked another one disbelievingly. "You're joking right? You have some kinda death wish or something?"

"No, I'm quite serious," replied Yeung.

"Look pal," continued the biggest of the bunch, "I don't know if you've heard or not but our sensei trained under Mr. Satan. A pipsqueak like you isn't even worth his time."

"Alright," nodded Yeung, "How about giving me a test? Or is your sensei so weak he can't even answer my challenge?"

"Why you little.." started the big one. The rapscallion got ready to beat the shit out of Yeung but was held back by two of his fellow students.

"Wait senior Lang!" said one of the others. "Let's take this clown up on his offer."

The big one who was by now very pissed took a moment to think it over.

"Alright," he said finally, "Whatcha have in mind pipsqueak?"

"Give me a minute," replied Yeung as he took a moment to survey the area for a decent yet simple challenge. His eyes soon came upon a fairly thick caste iron barbell plate that was being used to prop the dojo door open.

"I believe this will do quite nicely," said Yeung matter-of-factly as he reached down and picked up the lone weight.

"So, what's it gonna be kid?"

Yeung smiled as an idea came to him. "Crush it."

"What?" asked the big one incredulously.

"If I can crush this, then you take me to see your master," declared Yeung.

The group of students smirked at one another. Finally, the group gave the "OK".

Yeung took the biscuit pan-sized weight into his hands and began to squeeze. The smiles of the karate students turned into looks of absolute apprehension as the massive weight folded in on itself in one seemingly effortless motion.

"Any questions?" Yeung implored sarcastically.

"Uhhh, no."

"Good," continued Yeung gesturing towards the door. "Your sensei please?"

"Sure." Replied the big guy nervously. "This way."

The three students led Yeung inside. On the floor mat in the central training facility of the dojo, the master was running the younger grunts through fighting drills. The sensei was a tall man of anywhere from six and a half to seven feet and had the build of a Mongol. One of the students escorting Rolo into the building walked up to the master and informed him of Rolo's challenge. The large man approached Rolo who was still standing with the other three students.

"Lang, continue instructing your inferiors for me," ordered the large sensei. "I want to have a word with this boy here…"

"So you accept my challenge then?" probed Yeung.

"Sure," spoke the sensei. "I heard about what you did out front, and now I want to try you out for myself. Does a street fight catch your fancy?"

"Does a one legged duck swim in a circle?" asked Yeung in the most sarcastic way imaginable.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'

The two of them made their way to an alley just behind the studio. There were empty crates and garbage piled everywhere and the smell of rotting meat and pipe glue was so nauseous that Yeung began to wonder if his constitution would hold up.

'_I never could understand how these city folk can live like this' _Yeung thought to himself. He was suddenly broken from his trend of thought by the sensei's voice….

"Do you wanna make the rules or should I?"

"I'll leave that up to you," responded Yeung.

"Alright then hotshot!" continued the large man, "If you give up or pass out, you lose. Is that fair enough?"

"Fine by me," replied Yeung.

"OK then," said the sensei, "Does anyone have a stop watch?"

"I do sir," said one of the students.

"Great, then let's get started."

"Let's," coaxed Yeung.

The two fighters assumed their respective stances.

"You' re goin down!" bellowed the large man, making the first move. As the man closed the distance between them, Yeung readied himself to counterattack. Suddenly and at the last possible second, the giant-sized karate master lunged into the air and attempted to come down on Yeung's skull with a heel kick. To this, Yeung reached up and snagged the older chap's ankle before slinging him face first into the sidewalk. A wet popping sound vibrated along the walls as the man's body pushed a sizable impression at the site of impact.

'_Hah! Amateur.' _thought Yeung. The boy slung the brute's leg to the sidewalk and turned to leave.

"Ughh," moaned the downed martial artist. The large man made one attempt to stand. Yeung saw this and reacted quickly. He was not used to weaklings possessing the grit to have another go at him.

"Errr …, How dare you get up!" shouted Yeung as he vertically leaped high into the sky. "When idiots get knocked out by me they stay knocked out!"

Yeung jerked his entire body upside down in midair and with all the grace of a jungle cat as he stiffened his body for his all-time finishing move. "DIG A GRAVE AND MAKE IT SHALLOW YOU WORM! THIS ONE'S FOR KEEPS. **'AERIAL ATTACK!'**"

His opponent barely had time to attain a sitting position as Yeung went into a free fall onto his downed adversary. A truly sickening sound could be heard throughout the alley as Yeung came crashing down into the large sensei with the force of a car wreck.

"Oh my God!" yelled one of the students. All those gathered looked on their master's limp body with shock and apprehension. "Somebody call a doctor quickly!"

Yeung paid little heed to the panicked remarks of the students as he made his way out of the alley.

"Hey You!"

Yeung turned around to see at least six of the dojo's students lined up side by side. Each of them had murder written on their faces as they rushed to arm themselves with whatever was within reach.

"If I was able the beat that buffoon so easily then what you think you stand a chance of beating me?" Yeung snidely asked as the angered students of the dojo moved to encircle him.

"You can't take us all on!" shouted one of the ticked fighters. "It doesn't matter how good you are!"

At this, Yeung simply brushed them off as he turned to leave.

"Err… Hey! I'm talking to you jackass!" shouted the big student he'd met before.

"And I'm ignoring you," responded Yeung smart-assedly.

"That's it! Let's nail this sucker's ass!" shouted the big one. The lot of them rushed Yeung at once.

What followed this rash course of action by the students could best be summed up in two words: 'Total annihilation.' Screams of agony could be heard as Yeung sent bodies flying to and fro. One unlucky soul landed in the garbage dumpster. Another had his body implanted in a brick wall. Still, another found himself impaled through a truck windshield. When it was over only Yeung was left standing. Completely unscaved, he continued his way out of the alley. On the way out, he passed another student bearing a puzzled look on his face.

"Hey dude!" cried Yeung motioning the curious karate student over to the alley. "When sleeping beauty there finally wakes up, tell him that his tope is hanging on the doorknob."

"Uh, sure," replied a now very frightened karate grunt.

Yeung ignored the roughneck as he waltzed down an adjoining street perpendicular to the back alley. He continued on until he came upon an intersection where a magazine stand was set up.

"Hello stranger," greeted the old man attending the stand. "Got a copy of the West City Herald here for 2 zennies!"

"Sure," answered Yeung. He paid for the paper and looked up at the old man. "You wouldn't happen to know where the park is would you?"

"Yeah buddy," answered the old rouge. "Just keep heading down this street here" motioned the elderly chap with his fingers "Then you just take a left and keep going straight for about three miles."

"Thanks," said Yeung as he turned to cross the street.

Yeung continues on for about half an hour until he reaches the city park. Shortly after entering, Yeung takes a seat on a nearby bench where he resigns himself to reading the newspaper. Unknown to Yeung, he is being watched by someone he knows very well.

"Oui! What's up?"

The voice is easily recognizable to Yeung as the voice of his longtime rival and sparring partner Fein.

"Fein! How are you doing?" greeted Yeung as he got up to shake the hand of his compadre. "It's been a while. You're looking well."

"Yes, yes it has my brother in arms," agreed Fein. Fein unlike Yeung was a tall, lanky boy of about six feet. His personality has always been that of an easy going bum. Like Yeung however, he is a proven warrior.

"What have you been up to lately?" asked Yeung who was eager to find out what his old comrade has been doing for the past eight months.

"I've been getting into trouble and a lot of it," answered Fein. "You of all people should know that."

"Ohhh…," exclaimed Yeung, "Why am I not surprised?" At this the two of them broke into a fit of laughter.

"Exactly what kind of trouble are we talking about here?" prodded Yeung. "You can tell me."

"Why? So you can tattle on me to Choppoa?" asked Fein in an oh-so-pouty tone.

"Bwa,ha,ha" chuckled Yeung. "Naw seriously dude. Have you seen any girls?"

"Uh…a few," answered Fein as he sat down beside his old friend.

"Really? What were they like?"

"Total whores. Most of em anyway," disclosed Fein with a grin. "How about you Yeung?"

"Me? I've been drifting from one job to another."

"No numb nuts!" corrected Fein, "I mean girls."

"Oh well, one I guess," replied Yeung.

"Just one! You've gotta turn on a little of that charm if you want to get to first base," advised Fein as he gave nuggies to his companion.

"Stop it already," pleaded Yeung as he fought his way out of a headlock that could strangle a tiger. "Seriously man, what have you done lately to further your training?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," repeated Fein. "I was gonna visit the local dojo in this burned out burg to see if I could mop the floor with em but they looked as though they had seen better days."

"Haha! Beat you to it," declared Yeung.

"You filthy little bastard," smirked Fein. "Couldn't you have saved something for me?"

"So, how about it?" asked Yeung.

"How bout what?" inquired a very puzzled Fein.

"Let's put our training to the test," suggested Yeung.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Hmmm…" mused Yeung in thought.

"Oh! I know. How's about a race?" offered the older teen.

"A race?" repeated Yeung. The idea of a race had definitely caught his ire. "To where?"

"There is a pub at the other end of the park called 'The Matchbox,'" Fein explained. "That will be our goal."

"What do I get if I win?"

"What? You need a prize?" asked Fein incredulously.

"A little incentive would be nice," said Yeung sarcastically.

"Fine! How does 50 zennies sound?"

"You got yourself a race," Yeung answered bluntly. The two shook on it.

"Alright, a beeline to the pub. You are so on!" The two boys got into a starting position situated between two lamp posts."

"Countdown," the two stated in unison, "One, two, three, GO!" The two of them shot off like a pair of wild-assed Indians. Of the two of them, Fein had always held the speed advantage although points for stamina would always go to Yeung. The two sped up a steep incline as they followed an animal trail into the woods. They moved like ghosts through the dense undergrowth that grew beneath the canopy overhead. The briars and thorn bushes were a constant source of irritation for the duo but they didn't allow for this to slow them down. This battle of man versus nature continued on until Yeung had had enough…

'_This is baby-back BS! There has to be an easier way to keep up with him!' _It was then that Yeung spied a low hanging branch. '_Wait one moment here! That gives me an idea.' _Yeung snagged the limb and proceeded to leap from tree to tree. It wasn't long before he'd caught up with his senior.

"Dammit!" cursed Yeung, "This guy is still faster than me!"

Up front Fein was speeding on ahead of his challenger. Every now and then he would look back at his opponent and throw a smart-assed remark.

"Oh give me a break," complained the speedy warrior as he looked ahead to see an upcoming lake. It was then that Fein had an idea. _Wait, this is a good thing._

Fein looked back at the still trailing Yeung. The boy in question was jumping down from a particularly tall elm only to be caught in the branches. "Hey Yeung!" shouted Fein. "I hope you've learned how to swim hehehehe!" Fein took a deep breath before diving into the water.

"Huh, no fair," gripped the wayward warrior landing on the lake shore.

'_Now what? I can't swim' _thought a now very frustrated Yeung. Trying to figure out his next move, he took a moment to look around. Suddenly his eyes came upon a dock and tied to it was a motor boat. '_Oh God, I can't pilot one. Think, think, think, think…. Ah shit! If retard wins, I'll never hear the end of it.'_

Yeung looked at the water in disgust. He walked up to the water's edge and stuck his toes into the cool liquid before quickly pulling them back out as if out of fear. "Uh-uh, what the heck am I thinking?" Yeung asked himself shaking his head. He sighed deeply as he came to the realization that the only way he could stay in the race was to go around. The lake was simply too wide to jump across, even for him.

On the other side of the lake Fein came ashore. Looking around he disrobed and dried himself.

'_Yeung thinks he's so great. Hmph! That guy can't even get over a little water. What a pussycat!'_

Fein looked behind him to see his peer Yeung stranded on the opposing shoreline. At this Fein doubled over in uncontrollable laughter. '_This would be a great time to taunt the fool.'_

"WHAT'S A MATTER YEUNG? IT'S JUST A LITTLE WATER! HA,HA,HA!"

On the other side of the lake, Yeung just stood there shaking with absolute rage. '_This clown is making fun of me. Me, Yeung, the greatest fighter to emerge from the monastery of the Holy Rite in over a generation.' _This was just too much for him to bear.

"I can't deal with this," Yeung growled to himself. "Grrr…I have to catch up with him!" With that, Yeung started to sprint the long route round the lake.

Elsewhere, two powerful beings, one good, the other the embodiment of evil wound down after engaging in one of the fiercest battles in the history of the cosmos.

"All you've done is pump up your muscles!"chided the second, "But that won't get you anywhere if your opponent has any sort of speed!" The being in question, Cell, had just spent the last half hour leading two of the last remaining members of the Saiyan warrior race by the nose.

At this remark the other one, Trunks, the boy from the future, shot Cell a look that would be described as a mix of hatred and fear.

"You fool….," mouthed Cell in the most condescending manner imaginable, "Honestly it's a very simple concept to understand!"

"Of Course!" said Trunks aloud, "How could I be so stupid?" '_This ascended Saiyan form is too slow to defeat Cell… I'll have to warn the others not to use it anymore! That is…,I wish I could.'_

"You can finish me off if you want," conceded Trunks, "I've failed."

"How gracious of you!" replied Cell sarcastically. "sigh What shall I do with you? Both you and Vegeta have disappointed me. I expected more from a pair of Super Saiyans. And where has Goku been? Hmm? Where has he been hiding?"

"For your information," started Trunks, "he's training to defeat you. And make no mistake; he will be the one to beat you! No contest!"

"No contest?" repeated Cell incredulously, "No contest! Ahhhh! A tournament!"

"What do you mean?" asked Trunks.

"A tournament will begin in ten days," disclosed the tyrant. "Consider yourself lucky. I'm giving you a second chance."

"What are you talking about?"

"You really don't know?" inquired the surprised green goony. "Long before we ever existed there was a competition on this planet called the Tenkaichi Budokai…. I'm going to revive it and prove once and for all that I have no equal. Bring me all the fighters you can! The more fighters you bring the more chances you'll have to survive! I have yet to decide on the location of the tournament, so keep your eyes peeled to the television for details."

"Wait…What's the purpose of this tournament?" inquired our lavender haired hero incredulously. "This has to be some sort of trick!"

"Oh! Must you really treat everything as though it's some sort of conspiracy?" Cell scolded. "There is no secret purpose. It will just be very entertaining! I have proven that I am unstoppable. None of your friends are any threat to me now! But there is one that I want to test my power against. Bring me Son Goku!"

Then without another word, Cell flew off to make the preparations for his shindig.

_Yes, Son Goku. You will soon kneel before me._

Elsewhere, hundreds of miles away at the lake in West City Park, Yeung had finally made his way around to the other side of the lake. By this time however, Fein had already moved on and had won the race. Knowing he has lost, Yeung walked the rest of the way to the pub so as to rendezvous with his friend. That and he wanted time to sulk.

"He'll never let this down," murmured Yeung as he worked his way up a hill. "I can hear it all now! _Dude! You got like totally left behind._"

"Why? Why me? Why do I always get the short end of the stick? Please, tell me what I'm doing wrong!" Yeung shouted imploringly to no one in particular.

Yeung continued walking for another half-hour passing pedestrians who were either picnicking, playing ball, or just watching their kids play. You know…., stuff that people usually do when they visit the park.

Sometime in mid-afternoon, he exited the park heading in the direction of the bar. From here, he walked a couple of city blocks until entering the older, more run down parts of the city. Crime and poverty were rampant in these parts mostly because society stopped caring about these impoverished slums.

"Man, I'd love to meet their decorator," remarked Yeung glancing around at the state of the neighborhood in which he was traveling. "This crud hole looks like something out of National Geographic. If city hall can give itself a raise, then there should be no excuse why they can't wiz away a few zennie on this hellhole."

While Yeung continued to stroll(and complain), he failed to notice that someone had snuck up on him from one of the adjacent alleys. It was a large burly male with dark skin. In his left hand he held a claw hammer. Without hesitation, the big fellow lifted the hammer and brought it down squarely across the back of Yeung's head. He had hit Yeung so hard that the hammer's handle cracked in two near the head. The last thing that could be heard from Yeung before his face was bunted to the asphalt was a loud, pain-filled yelp.

"Hey guys!" shouted the big man. "I got em!"

On the large man's signal, at least fifteen degenerate thugs came scampering out of the alleys. Most of them sported Mohawk hairstyles decorated in various dyes and bird feathers and donned body armor that resembled something out of the Dark Ages. Each was armed with savage looking weaponry ranging from maces to chains to axes. Closing in for the kill, they surrounded Yeung's seemingly lifeless form.

"Let's chop him up," suggested one of the goons. "I'm sure we can get a lot of money on the black market for his organs."

"Good idea Rex," praised one of the others. "After that, let's sell what's left of his cadaver to the local university. I'm sure their Anatomy students would appreciate having something fresh to work with!"

Suddenly, and much to the street gangs' collective surprise, Yeung shot up from where he lay. He only had a moment to brush himself off before one of the thugs tried to decapitate him from behind. He ducked just in time to avoid a horizontal strike. He lashed out using a powerful sideways stomp that sent his assailant reeling through a nearby window seal.

"Attack!" bellowed the leader of the group. The men charged the boy from all sides. What followed could be best described as a dance. Using every fighting form he could remember from his days in the monastery, Yeung shattered the limbs, broke ribs, cracked skulls, and severed the spines of the men who assaulted him. When it was over, dead bodies were strewn about Yeung's feet and his face and hands were covered in blood.

"Heh, heh, amateurs," smirked Yeung The boy turned to deal with the last of the thugs.

It had now came down to just Yeung and the leader of the troop. As Yeung approached him, the big guy looked as though he were ready to empty his bowels and his bladder. In a last ditched attempt at self-preservation, the man actually got down on his hands and knees and began to beg for forgiveness. Sadly, all he could do was shudder. He didn't even have time to say 'please' before he was silenced by Yeung.

"There's no need to beg," commented Yeung. "If I let you go, you might do this to someone else. No, I'm gonna do the world a great favor by putting you down here and now!"

"No please!" was the last thing the Mohawked sadist could say before Yeung kicked his forehead in. The toe kick landed with enough force to bust his head open like a melon. Chunks of flesh and brains stained the ground pink surrounding the area of the killing and dark blood splattered the walls.

"So much for these 'Mad Max In Thunderdome rejects," muttered Yeung, turning away. "Now to catch up with Fein!" Yeung continued on as if nothing had happened.

Author's Note: I know it's boring so far but it's gonna get better. Much better. At least in this chapter you all got a chance to see that Yeung had a darkside. Please review!


	2. All That is Needed is a Spark

Chapter 2: All That Is Needed Is A Spark

All was quiet over the Northern Wastelands as a certain evil android made his way across the summer skyline. Cell was intent on finding a place to build a great arena upon which to host his event. He had yet to make his plans public to the rest of the world. Oh, but he would!

It wasn't long before he came upon geography with a reasonably level layout and decided to land.

"Ah! This looks like the perfect spot," Cell commented. Looking for level ground, he surveyed the pristine region surrounding him. The place his attention was centered on was similar to a rural farm town in appearance surrounded by groves of trees and other vegetation.

"Now to clear some land," stated Cell. He stretched out his right palm. Trying not to use too much power, the bio weapon let fly with a wave of energy that engulfed the entire small community and practically flattened the surrounding wilderness. Admiring his handiwork, Cell smiled fiendishly. This done, Cell turned to his next task which was creating a ring floor. He took a moment to look around for something he could use to provide a solid foundation for the arena. His line of sight fell upon a great mountain of sandstone that looked as though it would have some degree of flexibility.

"This should provide excellent building material," Cell said to himself. Clearing his mind, he exerted the force needed to lift the giant hunk of land into the sky. Holding this internal state, he then used his mind to cut the great piece into massive slabs of flooring. Each slab in itself was massive weighing between 1500 and 1700 lbs a piece. He brought the sandstone slabs down on to one another in three consecutive layers. Feeling quite pleased with himself, Cell took a moment to bask in the feeling of his latest accomplishment before deciding it was time to leave.

"Now it's time to make my grand début!" shouted the monster as he flew off to announce his plans to the world.

Elsewhere….

Jujitsu hidoshi Rolo Yeung had arrived at the bar called 'the Matchbox' with his friend Fein, and let's just say that he is not exactly enjoying himself at this moment.

'_I can't believe that Fein actually goes to this place…,' _thought the young martial arts taking another sip from his rum. As he did so, he continued to look around at the interior of the piss-poor excuse for a club. '_I'm thirteen years old and they're serving me hard whisky for God sakes!' _Yeung had just this afternoon suffered a grueling defeat at the hands of his best friend. Right now he desperately needed to drink away his troubles. '_Oh God, please let this bottle work it's magic.'_

Yeung looked down into the bottom of his glass to see bugs floating around in his fire water. "Holy Shit!" shouted the boy slinging his glass into the middle of an adjacent table. There a gang of about four burly drunkards were holding a poker game. This prompted a bar fight between the four. Shouts of "Dirty Cheatin Bastard!" and "Them's Fightin Words Where I Come From!" could be heard as the other bar trollers began to open a can of whop ass on one another.

'_Is that a roach floating around in that egg jar? Do they even serve anything in this shit hole that's worth human consumption?' _Yeung said to himself as he shewed away a horsefly.

"OH MY GOD!" yelled the now seriously shocked teen.

"What is it?" asked Fein in between sips.

"It's the bartender's license," answered the younger boy. "It's issued for 1985 and expired in 1990! And it's only good in…..GERMANY!"

At this, Fein began to look a little pale. He bent over and heaved on the guy sitting behind him. Upon hearing this, a rat began to nibble on the unlucky customer.

_I can also see why they call this place 'the Matchbox.' _continued Yeung spying a burning kerosene lamp sitting atop a pile of magazines. '_One spark and the place really will go up like a box of matches….are those girls really wearing what I think they are?' _

Yeung then caught a whiff of something horrendous. '_Sweet mother of God! What in Christ's name is that sickening smell?'_ The disgusted teen half-heartedly followed his nose to the source of the pungent odor. '_Oh! It's just Fein.' _Yeung was brought from his trend of thought by his buddy's voice…

"So what would you like?" asked Fein.

"Anything that doesn't have piss in it would be nice," answered the now tainted-for-life boy. "I could have sworn I saw the midget circus clown cock his leg up on the beer keg."

"You'll have to settle for the fruity drinks then."

"Fine by me," replied Yeung. The boy was understandably beginning to feel a little green around the gills.

"Where's the bathroom?" Yeung asked Fein.

"It's back there," said Fein as he motioned Yeung to a dilapidated door covered in spray paint graffiti and spitballs. "But I must warn you. I wouldn't touch that toilet seat if you put a condom on it!"

"Thanks! I'll keep that in mind." Yeung got up and made his way to the facilities. When he reached the door he was very reluctant to even touch the doorknob. Standing right next to the men's room entrance was a pair of fat naked bikers having at it.

"What the heck are you looking at?" demanded what Yeung thought was the man among the two.

"Uhhhh..Nothing," answered the boy as he hurried into the darkened restroom. Quickly, he shut the door behind him and switched on the lights. The sight before him brought to mind a new level of dirty.

"And these days they call folks civilized," Yeung uttered to himself as he approached what he thought was a billboard but turned out to be a bathroom stall. Peering into the stall, he prepared to scream like a little girl. There before him were cigarette buds burned into the toilet seat and etched into the stall's left inside wall was an advertisement for Fecal Matter Playpen.

After about five minutes of relieving himself, four of which were spent scrubbing the commode, Yeung exited the bathroom praying aloud that he hadn't caught anything too serious. On the way out, he tripped over the naked bikers who were at this time basking in the afterglow of their erotic misadventure.

"Hugh, "moaned the boy as he attempted to get up. "At least now I know which one of them is the women." He tried to reassume his place next to his friend at the bar. However, someone decided they liked his seat a little more than he did.

"I don't know who this asshole is but he's sitting in my seat," fumed Yeung. The kid snagged an empty bottle from one of the service tables. Brandishing it like a menacing club, he made his snuck up behind the fool and drew back. Fein noticed what Yeung was about to do and tried desperately to stop him.

"Yeung! NOO!" warned a now horribly frightened Fein but he was too little too late. Yeung swung with all his might and nailed the trespasser in the back of the head. An elderly sounding squeal erupted from the mouth of his victim.

"Yeung! You idiot!" shouted Fein waving his arms around hysterically. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? You just canned an old lady!"

"Huh?" It had finally dawned on him that he had just committed and act of first degree manslaughter while under the influence, under aged, in a bar after curfew hours. Upon realizing his fatal mistake, his face became white as a ghost. He dropped to the floor and began to ball his eyes out.

_I can hear it now. The sirens. The shouts. The angry police officers shuffling me into a processing room. My life has ended. This is it! _

He jolted up at the sound of heavy boots thumping against the wooden floor. It was as if the cops really were rushing in to apprehend him for his crime.

"I'm sorry! P-please don't send me to prison," pleaded a now squalling Yeung in between crying. He opened his eyes to see that in fact cops were rushing into the building and heading in his direction. He stuck out his hands as if ready to say "Take me in" but was surprised when he didn't feel handcuffs being slapped onto his wrists.

"Alright boys! Grab her!" shouted one of the officers. The big cop came down hard on the old lady. "Alright little missy, you're going away for a long time." The one giving the orders walked over to Yeung and shook his hand.

"Thanks for your help son," praised the cop. "We've been trying to nab this succubus for a long time. You've did your community a fine service!"

"I did," articulated Yeung as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Oh, I mean of course I did!" Fein could only look on bug eyed at the spectacle before him.

"You are a fine example of the folks who will lead this great nation into the future," continued the police officer.

"What was that old hag's crime?" asked Yeung.

"She's wanted for using Sunday bingo as a fencing operation for peddling drugs," answered the older man.

"And I would have gotten away with it too," sneered the old lady, " had it not been for those meddling kids and their drinking problem."

"What?" shouted the police official. "What drinking problem?"

"Don't forget officer," warned Yeung, "You have been allowing an unlicensed, unsanitary bar to run here for thirty years."

"You didn't see nothing!" the police officer said threateningly as he grabbed Yeung by the collar of the shirt. "You hear me! Nothing! If you say anything about this and I do mean anything, you are dead!" With that, the policeman left the bar in a mad dash.

"Wow! The fish does rot from the head down," Fein lamented as he helped his friend back to a stool.

"Man Yeung! You should'a seen yourself dude," goaded Fein. "You were simply squalling like a baby."

"Shaddup!" mouthed Yeung turning to his drink. He took one sip before making a change of subject.

"So Fein…"

"Yeah," replied the older boy.

"What have you really been doing for the last eight months?" inquired the younger teen.

"Fishing."

"Say What?" asked the surprised kid. "No seriously."

"I am being serious," asserted Fein. "Just after you and I went our separate ways, I got a job as an oyster fisherman as part of my training. The great northern oceans possess some of the most savage waters on the planet. Every trip out guarantees that at least one man will die at sea, and I almost became one of those men."

"I can only imagine how you almost became a casualty on a crummy fishing trip," remarked Yeung. At this last remark, Yeung got decked to the floor by his friend.

"How dare you!," cried Fein. "I nearly died at sea for God's sakes."

"Look man," started Yeung, " I didn't know. I'm sorry OK!"

"You damned well better be you jerk!" hollered Fein.

"So how did you get lost at sea?" inquired Yeung understandingly.

"I was thrown overboard by my own crewmates."

"What!" asked Yeung incredulously. "Why?"

His hands trembling with the feeling of pent up rage, the one that comes with bad memories, Fein sat down and went down memory lane. "I kept getting us in trouble with the Coast Guard, so one day the first mate with the help of a few others conspired to get rid of me. They drugged me and in my dazed state I was unable to defend myself. They stuck me in an oyster basket and tossed me over the side of the ship. I was lost at sea with no source of warmth, no fresh water, no food…. My only comfort was a piece of driftwood that I ripped off the side of the basket. I endured Hell on Earth for two whole weeks in those icy waters. I came close to blacking out so many times. I thought that it was it for me. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of getting even with the bastards who threw me overboard! One day I will…."

"Wow," exclaimed Yeung "You finally have your own vengeance story."

"My own vengeance story?" remarked the puzzled youngster. "Wait! You're still not talking about getting even with King Piccolo are you?"

"Yes," replied Yeung. "I'll never forget the day that green skinned monster killed my parents. It's the thought of someday killing him that keeps me going. It's really all I've held to for the past eight years. Since King Choppa took me in, I've thought of nothing else. I lost all hope of reclaiming my parents' honor after some kid hero named Son Goku managed to kill Piccolo Daimoa. I was a lost soul. I was cast from one foster home to another until King Choppa saved me. I later learned that King Piccolo was alive and well and fighting that same Son Goku at the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament as he did three years before. This time however there was no report saying that Goku had killed Piccolo. With renewed hope, I continued my training so that I may one day kill Piccolo."

"Man your obsessed," said Fein.

"At least I'm not alone anymore in that department," retorted Yeung. "Besides, you have yet to hear about what I've been doing for the past eight months."

"I'm listening."

"Well, I got a job in Ginger Town working as an instructor for some run of the mill Tai Kwan Do sensei. The fool obviously had no real skill at all. He couldn't even jump more than 20 feet. He was way out of my league. The differences between us is where the trouble began. He was an egotistical maniac who saw his school as a personality cult that he could just immerse himself in. Once more, he was a horrible teacher who practically abused all of his students, but one day he made the mistake of crossing a very fine line that no one should cross. He molested one of his female students. Her name was Neiegi. I walked in on him while he was forcing her down."

"What did you do to him?" asked Fein.

"I kicked him so hard in the crotch that he'll never be giving another girl trouble. Neiegi became my girlfriend and she convinced her parents to allow me to come live with them. I was grateful seeings how I was then officially jobless. I continued my training in and around Ginger Town until one day I decided it was time for me to resume my journey. That's when I left my new home. My girlfriend was heartbroken at the incident but I told her that I would come back one day. Since then I have been living out of my apartment, clearing out karate dojos as part of my training."

"Well I'd hate to say this Yeung but you may have to take a rain check on visiting your girlfriend," said Fein. "Chances are she's dead."

"What? How?" inquired a now very frightened Yeung.

"I don't know but they say that some monster is killing people around Ginger Town."

"Is it Piccolo?" asked Yeung worriedly. "It's him isn't it?"

"I don't know man," answered the taller boy. "All I know is that nobody survived the purge of Ginger Town. Not even the military. But yeah, something unnatural is definitely happening in Ginger Town."

Just then the two boys caught sight of something strange on the news. It seemed as though a large grasshopper man came exploding onto the TV networks.

"Hey, bartender!" shouted Fein. "Turn up the volume!"

On TV, the large green creature snatched the microphone away from the newscaster and began to speak.

"I am Cell. Your boring lives are about to get a lot more interesting thanks to me. I have enjoyed terrorizing the Earth, but now I have something far more entertaining planned for this insignificant little world. For those of you who don't recognize me, maybe this will help…"

Cell then began to speak in a different voice altogether.

"I am the monster from Nicky Town!"

Hearing this, Rolo Yeung was furious. _This thing killed Neiegi. No…._

"The reason I am here is to announce that I've decided to hold a fighting tournament. I'm calling this competition 'The Cell Games'. It's a catchy title, don't you think?"

"The Cell Games will be held nine days from today near the Northern Wastelands. There you will find an arena that I designed myself. I modeled it after the one used in the original Tenkaichi Budokai. Bring me your best warriors and I will face each one of them in a contest of strength."

"The rules will be the same as those in the original World Martial Arts Tournament. If you give up or if your body touches the outside of the ring you lose."

"This is the last chance for the planet Earth…. If I am not defeated, it belongs to me!"

Cell then extended his hand towards the wall right behind him and fired a powerful blast that burst through the side of the ZTV News building and decimated a mountain far off in the distance. This done, he again turned to face the cameras.

"Now let the games begin!"

With that Cell flew right out the gaping hole behind him.

"That monster!" gasped Yeung. "He destroyed my home town!"

"Yeung, sit down," commanded Fein. "People are starting to stare!"

"I don't give a rat's ass!" yelled the boy. "Fein, start packing. We're going to enter that tournament." _Maybe I will never get my revenge on Piccolo, but at least I can get even with this jackass._

"Yeung, listen to me," implored Fein, "We don't even know what we're getting ourselves into or for that matter what we are up against. You saw what he did to that mountain."

"I don't care Fein," responded Yeung. "Come on!"

"Where are we going?" asked the older teen.

"We need to prepare for our journey. We're gonna walk to the Cell Games."

"Are you crazy Yeung?" asked Fein. "Or is it the alcohol talking?"

"Neither. Let's just consider it another step on our road to greatness. So what do you say Fein? Are you up to it?"

"Looks like I'd better get ready for another road trip," uttered Fein under his breath. "Alright, I guess someone has to be there when you fall down."

"That and I'm broke."

At this last remark, Yeung fell over stupefied.

"Let's go!" shouted Yeung as he rushed out of the bar.

"Hey, wait for me!" yelled Fein tripping over himself in a drunken stupor.

A few hours after they left the bar, the two boys found themselves at West City's Sports and Outdoors complex. The two of them were dead set on stalking up whatever they could carry, and luckily for them, capsules allowed them to carry a lot.

Far off in the back of the store, Yeung had grabbed a shopping cart and began to throw random objects from the shelves into the thing. "Alright, let's see here. We're gonna need a tent, canteens, a compass, fishing lines, sleeping sacks, pocket moonshine distillery, sleeping pills, canned rations, caste iron pots…"

"Sheesh! Slow down Yeung!" whispered Fein. "People are staring at us again."

As soon as the two boys grabbed all they needed for the trip, they made their way to the checkout line. On the way up, Yeung caught sight of something on one of the shelves that just seemed to call out to him.

"Hey Fein! Look at this," ordered the giddy fighter.

"What is it now Yeung?" asked a by now very edgy Fein.

"It's beautiful…" commented Yeung.

"It's a crummy parachute," said Fein unimpressed.

"It's not a parachute," corrected Yeung. "It's an XL power chute."

"What does it do?" asked Fein.

"It allows people to build up their stamina for all kinds of sports," answered the young warrior.

"How does it work?"

"Wind resistance," Yeung stated bluntly. "I absolutely must have one."

"Fine, I'll put it on my gift card," said Fein reluctantly.

"Oh, will you please?" pleaded the boy.

"Sure…." answered Fein. "Come on! Let's go already. We only have nine days!"

"Uh-Huh," nodded the younger among them.

After buying one of the power chutes, Yeung and Fein made their way to the front of the store.

"Wow! Look at this line," said Fein. "We don't have time for this. Maybe we could try the self checkout counter."

"No good!" responded Yeung. "They only process 20 items or less."

"Then let's make two or however many trips we need to make."

"Good call," commented Yeung. "Oh, and grab a few of those burritos from the frozen foods section."

"Why the hell would they have burritos in a sports mall?" asked Fein, puzzled.

"With the prices they're charging, how else were they gonna attract customers?"

"Once again you make a very good point."

Just then a short guy dressed in a checkered overcoat and armed with a handgun came running through the front entrance. Immediately, he began firing wildly into the store manager's cubicle. After emptying a chamber into the office space, he turned his sights on the cashiers. He systematically began to fire rounds into the nearest cashier, a young blonde girl in her late teens, killing her instantly. Nearly everyone in the store instinctively kissed the floor. There were kids crying, people screaming, grown men shitting themselves, etc.

"NOBODY MOVE AND NOBODY DIES!" shouted the gunman. "Now! Put the money in the sack and I won't have to kill too many of you."

In a last ditch effort to thwart the robber, one of the male store clerks made a go for the alarm button under the counter. It would be his last and greatest mistake as the gunman spotted him just in time to load half a chamber into his body.

"WHO ELSE WANT'S TO SCREW WITH ME!" yelled the edgy gunman.

He then grabbed one of the younger female customers by the hair and jerked her off the floor The dame screeched in pain as hair was ripped from her scalp. "HUH? DO YOU WANT TO SCREW WITH ME TOO YOU DIRTY BITCH!" The crazed robber began to rip away at her blouse. When the woman would not submit to his foul advances, the gunman snapped and put a bullet in her temple.

Meanwhile in the parking lot, law enforcement personnel began to file onto the perimeter. Using their patrol cars as a threshold, the police officers formed a arch around the front entrance. Swat cars pulled around back to cut off the crazed suspect's escape.

The officer in charge, a lieutenant, conferred with his seconds. One of the seconds in question was the very same crooked cop who had given Yeung a shakedown at The Matchbox.

"What's the situation Detective?"

Trying to find a smoke, the crooked Detective jostled around in his coat pocket. "Eye witnesses say the gunman has holed in the checkout counter!"

"Hostages?"

"Fraid so Chief," said the man off-handedly.

"You don't seem too concerned," remarked the lieutenant.

"It's the nicotine."

"Those things'll kill ya!" warned the senior officer.

"Bigger fish to fry! Bigger fish!" chided the detective.

"Right! Right! Seems like the guy's only interested in money," said the lieutenant.

"Raid through the back door?"

"Uhh…, no! If something goes wrong city hall will have my skin!" answered the man. "Let's try to negotiate first. That's your field of expertise."

Um…, OoooK then."

Back in the checkout lobby, the gunman wasted no time in grabbing a hostage, Yeung himself.

'_Well, at least I'll have a front row seat,' _thought the young master. "Hmm… I wonder if King Choppa can see me on television."

"You, shut the hell up!" snapped the murderous larcenist. It was then that Yeung heard an all too familiar voice from out front amplified by a microphone.

"THIS IS THE POLICE! LET THE HOSTAGE GO, DROP YOUR WEAPON, AND COME OUT QUIETLY!"

'_Hey! It's the same tin badge from before!' _thought Yeung.

"DON'T SCREW WITH ME!" shouted the gunman. "WHEN PEOPLE SCREW WITH ME, FOLKS WIND UP DEAD!" The gunman fired off another round only this time he fired at the cops. The round slammed into the face of the said corrupt cop, and the officer face-planted dead against the payment.

'_Score!' _Yeung mentally gave himself a high-five. He turned around and while the gunman wasn't looking, broke out of the gunman's hold. He then proceeded to throw the gunman to the floor and disarm him. He kicked the firearm from the crazed gunman's reach and stomped the maniacs' hands to a pulp. The poor fellow screamed in pain as Yeung grinded the bones in his wrists to applesauce. Yeung then reached down, yanked the robber by the back of the head, and twisted him around until he was facing him. Yeung bore a sadistic look that would make even a seasoned killer loose his nerve.

"Now then…" started Yeung, "What shall we do first?"

"P-please! Don't kill me man!" stuttered the wayward gunman, "I needed the money! I got hungry kids at home! Please!"

"Yes and I'm sure they're beautiful," Yeung commented offhandedly. He looked around for a creative way to end the man's life.

'_Hmm…Physical assaults are getting old fast. Maybe I should use a weapon…. Ohh! This will do quite nicely.' _Yeung had caught sight of the downed gunman's firearm and decided to put it to good use. He pointed the gun at the robber and started pulling back on the trigger.

"When you see the bright lights come out of the end of this thing, I want you to understand that it isn't Heaven." That said, Yeung emptied the remaining rounds in the man's face. The man squirmed around for a short while as blood gushed out of his gunshot wounds like a fountain. Soon he was dead.

Seeing that his work was done, Yeung tossed the firearm to the side just as West City police began to file in through every entrance. What they saw puzzled them greatly. At the feet of this young teenaged boy lay the body of the holdup's perpetrator. Yeung continued to look down at his t kill, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. One of the officers somehow mustered the courage to approach the scene before him.

"Kid! On behalf of West City, I would like to congratulate you on your heroic act," said the policeman. The store's assistant manager worked his way through the crowd of bystanders and cops that coalesced around Yeung and the gunman's body.

"Please feel free to have anything in the store that you want free of charge," offered the assistant manager. "It's on the house!"

"Oh hell yeah! Free stuff!" Pushing manager out of the way, Yeung grabbed an empty shopping cart. "Thanks lady."

"Come on Fein!" hollered the young master. "We're burning daylight as it is."

"Uhhh…sure," muttered Fein as he ran off after his friend.

When the boys were finished shopping, they began the meticulous task of packaging the camping supplies in capsules so as to lighten the load. However, there were some items that could not be stored in dynocaps. These had to be stuffed in the backpack on top of everything else.

"I'm not going," said Fein.

"What! Why not?" asked Yeung.

"This is your mission. Not mine. And besides, I would just slow you down."

"You won't change your mind?" asked Yeung.

"No. You're idea of action is too intense for my tastes," said Fein. "Knowing you, you'd probably get us both killed. Just promise me that someday you'll come back alive."

"I will. That much you can count on. I'm too good to die this early in the game. There's too much drama waiting for me. And besides, I haven't gotten my revenge on Cell or King Piccolo yet. "

"Well…You just keep trying Yeung and I know that one day you'll get your revenge. Sadly, it might not be what you expected."

"I will old friend," replied Yeung. The two of them shared one last handshake before going their separate ways, again.

Author's Note: I do not intend on being consistent with the length of my chapters. Some will be really long and others will be short depending on what I the writer am trying to accomplish.

Yeung is 13 years old and Fein is 16.


	3. Cross Country Madness

Chapter 3: Cross Country Madness

"Gotta keep going," Yeung gasped. He made his way down the superhighway running through the 32nd district of West City. Three hours prior, Yeung had brutally executed a man holding up the West City Sports and Outdoors complex. In doing so, he had received the praise of the West City PD in addition to a crap load of free merchandise. Fein had felt a little intimidated by the idea of traveling cross-country by foot so he elected to stay back. Yeung packed all his camping supplies and after donning his power chute, was on his way to the Northern Wastelands. Yeung was just now beginning to see that maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew by trying to go on foot.

'_Okay, if I keep going straight for two more miles there should be a turnoff that will take me out of the city. Hoo boy! Grabbing this power chute proved to be a good decision on my part. By the time I get to the Cell Games, my endurance will be twice what it is now. These things really wear a fellow out.' _

"Stupid Fein!" said Yeung to himself. "He doesn't realize how much training he's missing out on by staying behind. King Choppa was right about him! He may have a natural talent for fighting, but that attribute alone will never help that wimp keep up with me!"

Running past the signs, Yeung paid close attention to the speed limit. The sight of his form careening down the highway at superhuman speeds turned more than a few heads. Some motorists were so distracted by his speed they forgot about that one little thing that one must always do behind the wheel. Yeah…, that's right! Keeping one's eyes on the damned road! Let's just say that at day's end, there were sure to be lots of memorial crosses popping up on the highway…

Yeung eventually reached the turnoff but unbeknownst to him, a highway patrol car was pulling up from behind. Inside were two, fat, nasty-looking, donut packing state troopers, each with dribble rolling down their basketball-circumference, redneck chins.

"Now, would you look at that?" motioned one of the officers between stuffing jelly rolls. "Damn, he sure is fast. How fast would you say that dare boy were goin Earl?"

"I dunno boss," replied the other officer who at this time was performing a balancing act between a giant bag of cheese curls and his role as the driver. "Whaja say we pull em over? This just might be fun!"

"Yeah, Let's dog em a bit before we finish our business here," agreed the fatter one with a mischievous grin. Reaching for the microphone, the blubbery buffoon switched on the sirens.

Meanwhile, Yeung was still running headlong down the road completely oblivious to the meat-headed morons following him. Suddenly, he heard sirens and doubled back.

"THIS IS DA HIGHWAY PATRO!" voiced one of the two morbidly obese men. "PULL OVER TO THE SIDE AND PRESENT YOUR LICENSE AND REGISTRATION!"

"You have got to be kidding me…," Yeung said coming to a screeching halt with the patrol car containing the two state troopers not far behind.

When the patrol car came to a stop, Yeung had to struggle to maintain his composure. The antics of the two officers were just unreal. One of the officers, the one on the passenger's side, had gotten stuck(No surprise there!) while trying to exit the vehicle. The other, upon seeing his partner's plight, whipped a crowbar out of the trunk and began to grease down his jammed compodre' with dish detergent that he had been keeping presumably for such an occasion.

'_Are these guys for real_?' Yeung mentally asked himself. '_How did these buffoons even pass their fitness test, or a better question would be how do they even reach their side arms?' _Grinning ear to ear, an idea came to him.

'_Hey! I could have some fun with these Goodyear blimps.'_

The 'thinner' of the two officers finally managed to free his far larger, obese buddy. The rotund man took a second to brush himself off, and along with his subordinate, drew his knife stick and slowly sauntered over to Yeung. Yeung looked as though he were going to burst out laughing at the sight of what could best be described as two people impersonating emperor penguins.

"Now boy!" started the larger one, "About that dare license and registration…"

"I'm thirteen dip-shit!" Yeung retorted bluntly. At this insult, the larger state trooper lost his cool and drew back his Billy club. However, he was stopped by his partner.

"Wait Earl!" whispered the other highway patrol man, "Don't do it out in the open!"

'_Wow! He can actually draw his arm back,' _Yeung mentally said to himself._ 'I don't know what to say. I'm impressed!' _

"Don't give us any of your lip boy!" remarked the smaller, aiming his gun at the boy's face. "We got you on several counts of endangering the public, one count of insulting an officer of da law, and one hell of a count of jay-walking! Now, you're gonna walk over to our car over yonder, place your hands on da hood, and spread em nice and easy!"

"That's right son," agreed the bigger trooper. "We gonna teach you to respect our authority boy!"

"Why are you guys hassling me?" asked Yeung. "Got nothing better to do?"

It was then that the bigger one reached for his sidearm. Cocking the hammer back, the big officer pointed the weapon right between Yeung's eyes. Yeung's grin did a 180.

"Hey! What in the Hell are you doing you jackass?" yelled the boy fighter.

"Just shut up, walk to the car, and put your damned hands on the hood!" the big man ordered impatiently. "Do it now, or I promise to God Almighty that I'll paint the pavement with blood!"

Getting over the initial shock of police harassment, Yeung's resolve began to solidify. Indignation written on his face, the teen warrior moved towards the large man until he could almost smell the aroma of burnt lead on the opening of the barrel.

All of a sudden, the second highway patrolman slipped behind Yeung and aimed his firearm right at the back of the boy's head.

"MAN! THIS IS SOME BULL...!"

Feeling as though they were now on top of things, the smaller of the two officers began to get pushy. Quickly, he drew back his club and brought it down right across the top of Yeung's head.

The resounding 'crack' that followed could have been heard for hundreds of yards as the Billy club splintered atop the young fighter's cranium. Yeung promptly dropped face first to the pavement, seemingly dead.

"Dang it rookie!" shouted the bigger officer. "We were supposed to lead him back to the car, drag him some place else, and then kill him!"

"I'm sorry boss!" sputtered the smaller officer. "I thought I'd…"

Just then the smaller officer began to shake violently. At his feet, the body of the boy he had just slain, began to prop itself up on its elbows. Fear written on his face, the larger trooper began to inch away from Yeung's rising form.

"What the hell is this kid?" yelled the smaller officer.

His face like stone, Yeung began to skulk over to the larger officer. For anyone who had seen the old Frankenstein movies, the boy looked almost like the monster right before killing his creator.

Promptly, the bigger trooper opened fire on Yeung. However, the bullets had little effect on the young warrior aside from forcing him back.

"Who do I kill first?" Yeung hissed.

What Yeung didn't realize was that the smaller officer behind him had pulled out a pump action shotgun and was leveling it at the back of Yeung's head. The rookie cop pulled the trigger and with a loud 'bang' the teen fighter was thrown forward. He landed face first at the larger trooper's feet.

"Did I get em?" asked the smaller trooper in a panicky voice.

Much to the trooper's chagrin, Yeung rolled over and sat up again as if nothing had happened.

"Word of advice guys," hissed the boy, "If you're going to kill someone, do it. Don't just stand there talking about it." With that, Yeung jumped to the side to avoid a shot by one of the troopers. With a right legged spinning heel kick, he disarmed his two assailants.

Moving quickly, the two officers reached for their knife sticks and tried a different approach. Drawing back, the two bumbling cops charged at the teen warrior. In response, Yeung jump high into the air and came down on the smaller of the two state troopers with a bone-shattering stomp to the sternum. While Yeung did this, the fatter one had gotten behind Yeung and swung his knife stick hoping to catch Yeung while he was preoccupied with his partner. Yeung saw this just in time and used the blow he applied to the smaller state trooper to propel him into the air allowing him to dodge the swing from the other one. The knife stick of the larger cop wound up striking the gravely injured, thinner cop right across his neck, breaking it instantly. The sight of the smaller trooper's lifeless body slumping to the floor in a heap distracted the larger cop long enough for Yeung to drop in behind him. Yeung hastily drew his left leg back to deal a devastating blow to the far larger man's left knee. The obese trooper squealed in pain as he felt his knee cap and lower leg taken right out from under him. His gigantic form hit the ground face first with enough force to bruise more than a few ribs.

With all the strength he had left, the large cop rolled over to look up at his undersized adversary.

"Look buddy!" said the now crippled blob, "I can pay you. Just let me go man!"

"Forget it!" remarked Yeung. "If I let you go, you'll have your buddies in West City coming down on me like flies on stink. No, it ends here!"

Yeung walked over to where the crowbar laid that the smaller cop had been using earlier. He picked it up and doubled back on the downed cop.

'_Do I really want to kill this tub of lard in such a bland fashion?' _Yeung asked himself. _'I don't see any other murder weapon around here that appeals to me. I could take their patrol car and use it to run him over, or better yet, I could take both his set of handcuffs and those of his partner and use them in combination with a tree, this vehicle, and any chain or rope I find in the trunk to rip his limbs from their sockets. This could take a while and I really don't have time to spare. I have to get to the Cell Games. I guess the crowbar will have to do although this buffoon deserves far worse.'_

Yeung walked over to where the state trooper lay in pain all the while brandishing the crowbar over his head in the most sickening manner imaginable. He wanted to make this bloated redneck suffer.

"NO! Oh please God! Don't!" were the officer's last words before Yeung began to beat him over the head senselessly with the blunt weapon. The officer tried to cover his face with his arms but that did little good against someone who could rip through people as if they were rag dolls. It wasn't long before his arms and hands were shattered by Yeung's mighty blows. Yeung then drew back the crowbar as far as he could, and with all his strength, brought the curved tool straight down on the officer's cranium, knocking a hole right through that part of his skull. The man lay there convulsing for a few moments before his body stopped moving altogether.

With his task behind him, Yeung gathered the bodies and placed them in the patrol car. Putting the vehicle in neutral, he pushed it into the brush along the roadside. This done, Yeung turned to leave.

"You know," said Yeung to know one in particular, "I do believe I'm beginning to enjoy this." The boy gathered his backpack and power chute and continued on his way.

While running full stride, a thought came to him. "I should probably travel through the countryside from here on out. It'll only be a matter of time before someone discovers the bodies. After this, I'll probably never be able to show my face in West City again. The only thing I can do now is disappear."

And so Yeung's great journey across the continent continued for two more days. He soon left the West City region and was making his way across a vast savanna. The grasslands of the Great Northern continent hosted vegetation as high as his shoulders. As the boy went he would encounter many wild beasts, some of which were violent. If such was the case he would grapple them as a way of honing his skills for the Cell Games. He'd battle a pride of lions here, the occasional apelike sasquatch there. He even had the opportunity to battle an agitated, male hippopotamus. One battle in particular proved to be most vexing to the young warrior.

"Damned!" cursed Yeung. "I'm gonna wear me out at this rate!" For a short while, Yeung had been grappling a powerful, male triceratops in a test of brute strength, and exhaustion was beginning to set in for both combatants. The three-horned dinosaur prepared to charge him once again but Yeung showed no signs of conceding. Yeung again stood up and prepared himself for the onslaught to come.

"Come on big guy," goaded Yeung. "Bring it on."

Hell-bent on trampling its' target, the triceratops plowed forward with everything it had. Each time it would drive Yeung away from its' herd, Yeung would simply run back to the body of animals in an effort to coax the aggressive brute into fighting him. Now however, the creature had had enough. He was putting everything on the line in an effort to destroy the feeble human.

Yeung planted one of his feet firmly behind him and one out front. He spread his arms wide and got into the grappling stance that he had learned from the time he was five. The triceratops was soon upon him. When the two opposing forces clashed, it was like a train wreck. Dust went flying everywhere as the enormous triceratops pushed the small boy ten, twenty, thirty, forty feet until bashing Yeung right through a balboa tree.

This however, did not kill Rolo Yeung. The midget lad was plastered to the raging dino's face holding on to the duel large horns protruding from the creature's crest. The triceratops threw its' head back and forth attempting to dismount the mighty youth but Yeung continued to hold.

The seriously pissed-off dinosaur soon tired of this tactic and began to ram its face into the ground in an attempt to gore the little fighter. But still, Yeung's resolve continued to hold firm despite the excruciating pressure that was being exerted upon his body.

_God, I'm so tired. No, he is far larger than I am. He has to be even more exhausted than me. _As if on cue, the triceratops ceased pounding the teenager into the bare earth and went back to charging. This however was what Yeung had been waiting for. He brought his feet to the ground just as the behemoth geared up to run and braced himself as he lifted the entire front of the triceratops' body off the ground. With a powerful twist, Yeung pushed his external oblique to the limit as he made like a rodeo cowboy and hurled the giant dinosaur to the side. The ten ton animal barrel rolled like a soda can in the wind until crashing into a distant tree.

Yeung staggered over to where the dinosaur had been thrown and peered into the creature's eye. The creature gave Yeung a look that almost said 'You win.' Yeung squatted down on his hands and knees and began to whisper something into the overgrown lizards' ear…

"Your good, but as long as I'm around you'll always be second best."

The triceratops got to his feet and gave Yeung a friendly nudge as if to convey his respect before turning around and trudging back to his herd. Meanwhile, Yeung went off to gather firewood so that he could settle down for the rest of the night. After making a fire, he had a quick meal before settling down for the night.

At the crack of dawn Yeung found himself in excruciating pain from last night's battle with the rampaging triceratops and decided to take some aspirin. It was the start of the forth day of his journey to the Cell Games, and he wanted to use today wisely to make up for the time he lost fooling around. He decided that it would be best to skip breakfast much to the chagrin of his aching gut. After packaging his effects, the boy headed out.

Yeung wasted no time making his way across the vast prairie lands that made up the central lands of the planet's super continent. To avoid arousing suspicion from local authorities who may recognize him, he stuck mostly to animal trails. Even though Yeung could handle half a dozen armed men he didn't want to chance taking on an entire precinct.

Hours went by and the strain of constant travel was starting to take it's toll on Yeung's sore body. He decided that he would take a risk by hitchhiking. He found a highway that looked as though it were well traveled and settled in for a spell. He passed the time through meditation. He found a reasonably clear space on the roadside and sat down. Getting into a comfortable position, he closed his eyes and relaxed his mind.

An hour passed by and still nothing. Yeung was considering just finishing his journey on foot, and just as he was about to trudge on, he heard a noise.

'_Sounds like someone's coming,' _thought the boy jumping to his feet. Sure enough there was a vehicle heading down the road at a fairly high velocity.

"It's a pickup truck," stated Yeung. "An old Chevy by the looks of it. Don't see many of them anymore."

As the truck got closer Yeung got a better look at the state of his potential ride.

"Holy Crap! Whoever the owner is needs to take better care of their stuff. The damn bumper looks like it's about to fall off!" Yeung fell silent when he realized that the driver was slowing down. The truck pulled up alongside Yeung with its passenger side window already down so that he and the driver may speak.

"What ya doing all the way out here stranger?" asked the driver.

"I'm trying to get to the Northern Wastelands," Yeung answered.

"Why would a kid like you want to go to that old sand trap?"

"It's a personal matter," replied the boy.

"OK buddy," said the driver. "I hear ya." The driver then began to look Yeung up and down in a way that made the young master uneasy.

"Do you wanna lift?" asked the driver politely. "There ain't any settlements for 50 miles. You're lucky I stopped when I did. There's a lot that could happen to a young'n like you in these parts."

'_Wow this guy's offering me a ride,' _thought the boy. '_Truck looks like shit but beggars can't be choosers.' _

"Sure, thanks old boy," replied Yeung tossing his backpack in the bed. The driver reached over and opened the passenger door from the inside.

Yeung climbed into the passenger side and shut the door behind him. Once he was strapped in, he got settled and tried to relax. There was a long silence between the two of them following Yeung's pickup and Yueng used this time to appraise the driver. The driver himself was wearing a flannel shirt and a baseball cap. The flannel shirt was covered in tobacco and mustard stains. This gave one the impression that this man did not take good care of himself. His choice of footwear was a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots.

'_He doesn't look very strong at all. If anything, he looks like a scrawny, middle-aged wimp. Still, I can't get over this boding feeling.' _It was then Yeung decided to break the silence.

"So what's your story old timer?" inquired Master Yeung.

"I came out here to get away from everything," answered the driver. "Too many people, not enough space. A man like me needs breathing room. I needed a place where my creativity could take flight."

"Creativity! You some kind of artist?"

"Something like that," smiled the man. "I enjoy certain kinds of 'projects'."

"That's cool," commented the lad. "What kind of projects?"

"Oh…, it wouldn't interest you," the man answered. "So, why are you out here again?"

"I didn't tell you to begin with," answered Yeung who at the moment began to feel tired. "Hey, I'm gonna lay back and get some shut eye. Is that alright with you?"

"Sure," answered the driver. "It's still a good distance to the next town. I'll tell you when we get there."

"Much appreciated." Yeung fell back and dozed off.

A while later, Yeung felt someone shaking him. He opened his eyes and turned to see it was the driver.

"You don't mind if I listen to the radio, do ya boy?" asked the driver.

"It's your truck. Not mine."

The driver reached for the stalk of what was once an on/off and volume knob and turned on the radio. He turned it to the station of his choosing and sat back to enjoy the broadcast.

'This is a special news bulletin. Police reports confirm that between 11:45 and 12:15 last night, convicted mass murderer Floyd Simmons escaped temporary custody from the Bingumtin Town sheriffs' office. Floyd Simmons is wanted for 34 killings stretching as far back as twenty years. His description is that of a middle aged Caucasian male. He is reported to have a small build. He has a noticeable curvature in his spine. A word of caution: He is believed to be armed and extremely dangerous!'

Yeung cringed on the inside. Had he been riding with a convicted mass murderer this whole time? Asleep no less! He eyed the scrawny man wearily.

'_Gotta get him first!' _

At the time however, the driver was thinking the same thing. '_Shit! He knows. Better make this quick before he jumps out the door.' _

The driver quietly reached into the side compartment opposite from Yeung and grasped a robust pipe wrench. He then swung the wrench at the teen's head with all his might, clocking him right across the forehead. Yeung's face was sent right through the passenger side lateral window.

In his bloodlust, the sadistic driver forgot to watch the road and the truck swerved halfway off the pavement. Because of this, Yeung's head collided with the post of a stop sign causing the back of his head to be thrown against the outside of the cabin with the force of a sledgehammer. His seemingly lifeless form slid against the inside of the door right into the floorboard of the cabin.

The serial killer had gotten the truck under control and was quietly admiring his handy work. He sighed deeply, feeling very disappointed that he wouldn't get to have more fun with his latest victim.

"Hmph, what a pity," the killer remarked, "And here I was hoping that I'd get to use some of my toys on him before I did him in." His look of disappointment soon turned into a look of pure fear as he saw Yeung stir.

"Holy Crap!" muttered Yeung clutching his head, "For a little guy he sure does lay on the mustard."

The murderous driver began to smack Yeung across the face repeatedly with the wrench, trying his best to knock the kid cold, but every time, Yeung would simply straighten out and shrug off his assaults.

'_God! What is with this little bastard?' _the murderer asked himself. _'Why won't he die?'_

After about thirty seconds of constant thrashing, the driver threw the wrench to the floorboard and tried something different before Yeung could fully recover. He braced himself against the driver's side door and tried kicking the snot out of the kid. His divided attention between trying to kill Yeung and driving caused the truck to swerve dangerously in and out of oncoming traffic, sending several cars and their passengers in the oncoming lane right into the roadside ditch.

Yeung was fast growing tired of this weakling's efforts to harm him. "It's my turn now Bubba."

Yeung braced himself against the inside of the door just as the driver had done before, brought both feet together, and kicked the bloodthirsty driver so hard that the force of the attack sent the man careening out the driver's side, taking the door with him.

The killer suffered terrible scraps and bruises as he tumbled several yards along the pavement before slowly coming to a halt. The killer was splayed out on his back with the crook of his neck ground into the asphalt. He struggled to sit up, but when he did, he wished he hadn't. Approaching fast was a big rig loaded with logs. The murderer tried with all his might to get up, but his legs refused to cooperate. His body slowly began to reach a sitting position, but in the end, it was all for nothing. The oncoming eighteen wheeler slammed into him with its over twenty tons of payload sending a limb here and an entrail there.

Back inside the truck, Yeung had taken control of the vehicle. Due to having no prior experience behind the wheel, the kid struggled with fine controls. Despite his ineptitude at driving, he had decided to commandeer the truck the rest of the way to the Northern Wastelands. Imagine an Asian midget behind the wheel. Yeah…

Of course he would have to ditch the truck sooner or later and resume his journey on foot. It was common knowledge that the Northern Wastelands had few roads and even fewer that were any good for anything other than a jeep. That of course doesn't even take into account the mountain range that runs through the northern most part of the great desert. There were no roads at all running through that sac asylum.

"Hmm, the Northern Wastelands," Yeung mussed to himself. "I wonder how many crazy shits will be trying to kill me between here and there. I guess I'll find out soon enough. I just hope that I don't get pulled over." Yeung hit the gas and sped forward determined to make up for lost time.

Yeung drove on for several hours until the truck began to sputter. Yeung looked at the fuel gauge and saw that it was on empty.

'_Oh great,' _Yeung mentally lamented, '_I'm out of gas. I don't have any money either. I spent it all on power aid and smack. I guess it's back to going it on foot.'_

Yeung pulled over to the roadside and exited the vehicle. He grabbed his backpack and put it on before pushing the truck into a pit. He then covered the truck with rocks and whatever else he could get his hands on so as to cover his tracks. Continued into the Northern Wastelands on foot, the kid took one last look behind him. He had overcome wild beasts and men alike to get this far. Little did Yeung realize that his greatest challenge lay ahead of him.

Author's Note: From here on out I will list the character's power levels so that you readers can see their progress.

Yeung: 109

Fein: 78

King Choppoa: 146

mass murdering driver: 5

male triceratops: 32

Cell(perfect form): over 1 billion


	4. Dino Damage

Chapter 4: Dino Damage

"OK, 'ow' I think that's the last of the firewood 'ouch'," said Yeung bending over to pick up another piece of dried-out cactus from the sandy surface. He juggled around with the load of 'firewood' that he had scrounged up which was primarily made up of petrified prickly pear stems. As he did so, the needles jabbed him something fierce. He then walked back to his campsite where he had already set up his tent.

It had been a rough time for the young master thus far. For the past day or so, Yeung had been pushing himself with everything he had to reach the location of the Cell Games, and every setback, every holdup, had made his thirst for revenge, if not his resolve, grow that much

stronger. Following his compass, Yeung had made a beeline through the desert at breakneck speeds. He had braved man and beast alike to come as far as he has. He had reached the point of no return. Following his compass, Yeung ran full stride though the last stretch of the trip was proving itself to be the most difficult. The deserts that made up the bulk of the Northern Wastelands were some of the most arid as well as some of the hottest places on Earth. In this region, there were whole stretches of geography that hadn't seen rainfall in over three hundred years. Here there existed mass graves where despots of ages past had buried the results of their oppression. Because of this, human remains littered the sand dunes, many of them uncovered by the searing winds that the desert lands had to offer. At night, the temperature would fall as low as minus ten degrees. Only the hardiest of creatures could live and thrive in this God forsaken land.

Yeung lay his supply of firewood down in a circle of stones that he had put together. The ring of stones was set up more out of habit than anything else because there wasn't really anything in the surrounding area that could sustain a brush fire. He reached into his bag and pulled out a starter set which he used to kindle a fire.

Yeung scooted closer to the fire so that he may shield himself from the cold desert night. He was hungry, starving in fact, but was unsure if he even had anything left to feed himself. The boy turned to his bag and rummaged through the large storage space looking for something to munch on. He pulled out an iron skillet and some Crisco. He sat these aside and dug further into his backpack in search of a meal. He soon found a piece of old meat from one of the wild beasts that he had killed during his trek through the central grasslands. The meat looked as though it had turned black from spoilage but that did little to deter the teen warrior. He eyed the meat closely as if trying to determine whether it was worth it to risk catching worms or some other pathogen.

"God, this meat smells like mayonnaise!" stated Yeung who looked as though he were going to have second thoughts. He decided against it though for he had no idea when his next meal would come. Opportunities in desert lands like these were few and far in between.

Yeung plopped the half-rotten meat into the iron pan and began to cook it _very thoroughly._ After about twenty to thirty minutes of cooking, Yeung decided it was time to eat. He broke out a plate and some napkins, and just as Yeung was about to woof it down, he heard a high pitched chirping sound.

"What was that?!" asked Yeung. At first he shrugged it off as though it were nothing and turned back to his supper. Then, he heard it again. This time, however, it sounded as though it originated close by. Yeung sat his meal on the desert floor and got up to have a look around. Suddenly, he heard it again.

"The tent!" exclaimed Yeung as he rushed over to where his tent was pitched up. He threw back the flaps that made up the front entrance but was unprepared for what he was about to find.

"Aww, how cute." Before Yeung sat two baby T-rex's that had crawled inside of his tent to escape the frigid evening air. The boy picked up the two tiny dinosaurs and brought them over to the fire so that they could better warm themselves.

"What are you two doing out all alone like this?" Yeung asked the baby dinos who only looked up at Yeung with the biggest puppy dog eyes one can imagine. "Where is your momma? She sure is gonna be mad at me if she catches me with y'all."

Yeung picked up his supper again, and just as he was about to bite into it, the two tiny T-rex's began to whimper. Yeung looked down at the young critters and felt a pang of guilt rise from the pit of his stomach.

_I can't eat. Not with them going hungry like this. Oh well, looks as though dinner will have to wait._

Yeung picked the piece of meat off his plate and tore it into to equal halves. He looked longingly at the two pieces one last time before he dolled out the meal to the baby dinos.

"I hope you guys appreciate this," said Yeung as the T-rex's snatched the meat from his hands. Yeung turned to look once more into the fire which produced shades of purple, possibly because there was a fair amount of copper in the sand that had blown into the dried cactus. To him, it seemed as though there were fairies dancing amongst the flames. Yeung sat and watched the fire for about a half hour more before deciding it was time to hit the hay.

_Tomorrow. Tomorrow I must find water. My canteen is so low. There's just no getting around it. _Yeung turned around and headed toward the tent with the two dinosaurs sleeping soundly in tow.

In the morning, Yeung rose from his bedding in a cold sweat. The temperature outside was already a blistering ninety degrees and was likely to go over one hundred before morning was even over. Yeung pulled on his pants and just as he was about to put on his shoes, something occurred to him. The baby dinos were not there. He hastily laced up his shoes and head outside only to be met by the most horrifying sight.

Before Yeung, lay the prone bodies of the toddler T-rex's. Above them stood the most vicious looking dinosaur he had ever laid eyes on. A filosa raptor to be specific. It stood over seven feet high and when it opened it's impressive maul, Yeung could see it's rows of razor sharp teeth and these teeth were stained pink with the blood of it's latest kill.

Yeung felt rage burn threw him at the loss of his new friends. He swallowed hard as he approached the raptor preparing to dish out some serious pain to this fowl creature that dared to commit this act. As he approached, the raptor sized up at him in the hopes of intimidating him. Still, there was no fear in Yeung's eyes. He charged at the larger dinosaur in a fit of pure rage. When he got close enough, he swung at the miscreant beast with every once of power he could muster. The raptor tried in vain to jump back as the punch found its' mark and sent the creature sprawling. It landed on it's hip bone some distance away, creating a sizeable impression in the ground when it did.

The raptor, knowing it could not win this battle with force alone, slowly stood up and cried out in distress. Yeung was puzzled as to what was going on but he found out soon enough for behind the swift predator Yeung could hear various hisses, shrieks, and other such noises. Much to Yeung's dismay, just beyond a hill came six other lethal filosa raptors.

Yeung began to back up out of fear at the sight before him. He turned to run, but before he could even make it a few yards, the terrible reptiles were right on his tail. Frustrated, he turned to do combat with his assailants. Yeung took a fighting stance in the hopes that he could stave off the attack. Soon, the pack of raptors was bearing down on him with all their ferocity. At first, it seemed as though the monstrous assailants were damn well determined to hit him head on with everything they had, but this turned out not to be the case. At the last possible second, the raptors broke off into three groups of two and surrounded him. Filosa raptors were a species of small carnivorous dinosaurs that were well known for their speed and intelligence in hunting.

"Shit!" cursed the boy fighter, "This complicates things."

Suddenly and without warning, the whole group of living, breathing killing machines jumped high into the air and started to come down right where Yeung was standing. Just before the raptor pack's melee hit its mark though, Yeung rolled to the side causing most of the group with the exception of one to fall onto each other in a heap.

The one that landed on its' feet resumed its' bloodthirsty triad and ran at Yeung as fast as it could. It stopped just short of the boy, and the two began to circle one another. The lone raptor then leaped at Yeung and began using its' tail as a whip in an attempt to trip the boy up. The cheap tactic proved adequate and Yeung soon found himself sprawled out on his backside. The giant lizard then leapt high into the air and came down on Yeung with enough force that Yeung could have sworn that someone had dropped a piano on him. The raptor straddled him and began to lash out at the boy fighter with jaws and claws. Yeung darted his head back and forth to avoid the animal's strikes that were directed at his face and used his powerful arms to brace the creatures' clawed forelimbs. He realized that the other raptors would be recovering soon and so he had to finish this quickly. Getting an idea, Yeung released the forearms of the carnivore and locked his arms around the thing in a powerful bear hug. The raptor thrashed and squealed and clawed, but in the end, it made little difference. The fight's end was signaled by a hollow snap.

With his first opponent finished, Yeung threw the sickening creatures' body to the side like a sack of potatoes and readied himself for his next adversary. He didn't have to wait very long. The other six raptors were up and about, and they were pissed. The whole group again charged at Yeung and once again surrounded him.

'_This again? Didn't they learn their lesson the first time?_' thought Yeung as he looked around at the monstrous dinosaurs. Then, as if Yeung had jinxed himself, the raptors began to run around him in a tightening circle.

"OK. This is new," said the boy as he began to trade blows with his determined opponents. "Crap! I can't keep my eyes on all of them." He was stuck in the middle of a whirlwind of claws and fangs and was moving franticly to block and dodge the blur of strikes at his legs and torso. It didn't take too long before the filosa raptor version of the wolf gang attack wore down the strident young warrior. The first serious blow by the sinister reptiles came to fruition when Yeung was nailed across the upper back by a spring loaded tail whip. The attack caused the fighter to stumble forward into yet another well placed attack that knocked him back into yet another one. Yeung tried desperately to work his way back into the middle of the fight where he believed he would have the best chance at regaining the defensive edge, but every time he would attempt to stop himself he would be batted around as though he were in a giant pinball machine. And that doesn't even take into account what Yeung had to do to avoid being bitten.

Yeung soon found himself at his wits' end. Bloodied and denied the defensive high ground, he saw no other alternative than to make one all or nothing effort at taking the offensive. He gathered his strength and rushed the moving circle of predators that had imprisoned him. This course of action got Yeung a bite to the thigh but nonetheless allowed him to cause the whole group to trip all over him in a tangled pile.

Seeing this as his only chance to stay on the offense against his savage enemies, Yeung decided to act on it. From beneath the pile, Yeung worked his way into a sitting position and lifted the entire group of rampaging cretins above his head. Their constant thrashing and squirming made this feat of strength difficult for the boy to accomplish. He spread his legs and placed one foot behind himself so as to act as a brace. He then hurled the entire group of ravenous dinos into a field of cacti. This task accomplished, Yeung relaxed for a moment so that he could catch his breath for the next round of fighting with the lizards from Hell.

Meanwhile, over in the cactus patch the raptor pack was writhing in untold agony as their every move caused more and more spines to be impaled into their scaled hides. They crawled on top of one another in search of relief from the torment that was the thorns. This activity led to an accident for it seemed as though one of the raptors was trampled to death by its' comrades' fitted jostling. The leader of the pack whether by intelligence or sheer luck found a way out of the patch. It climbed on top of one of its' fellow pack members and used him/her as a spring board to launch itself out of the cacti field. Unfortunately for it though, Yeung was waiting for it on the outside.

"Was it good for you?" asked Yeung in the most sarcastic manner before charging full force into the filosa raptor. He leaped horizontally at incredible speeds, and before the raptor could register what was going on, Yeung plowed into his opponent's muzzle with a super-powered dropkick. With its lower jaw broken and its nasal cavity jammed right into it's lower brain cavity, the creature began to wail in indescribable pain, it's very gasps and cries ejecting cerebrospinal fluid all over Yeung. Soon though, its cries of torment subsided as it slumped over dead with its face buried in the sand.

His latest individual match against the raptors over, the teenaged grappler quickly hurried to his tent. He fished around in his backpack until he found what he was desperately looking for.

"This outta even things up a bit," said Yeung as he looked upon a large hunting knife that he had purchased while in West City. He withdrew the knife from its leather sheath and ran back to the cactus patch. He ducked behind where he believed his enemies would eventually come filing out and there he waited. There was no point in running from the killer predators for it would only be a matter of time before they caught up to him using both their tremendous speed and their sense of smell. No! There would be no running. This was it. It ended now.

Sure enough, the crazed raptors started to make their way over the thorned plants determined to destroy the one pitiful mammal that dared to do this to them. However, they had no idea as of what to expect when they finally made it over the wall of needled weeds.

Feeling that one of his targets was crawling over the cactus stalk right above him, Yeung jumped high into the air and jut his hunting knife forward. His knife successfully impaled one of his opponents right in the lower extremities. The stuck raptor fell to the ground bleeding profusely from beneath its tail. While it was downed, Yeung leapt onto the raging beast and delivered a powerful stomp to the base of the monster's neck killing it in an instant.

Now that half of his enemy's numbers had been exhausted, Yeung figured it was time for a frontal assault. Murder written all over their ugly mugs, the remaining four raptors covered in bloody sores stumbled out from over the cactus obstruction that separated them from their target. They straightened themselves out and once again attempted to use the wolf gang assault against Yeung. They began running at high speeds around the boy to see if they could duplicate their earlier success. Yeung braced himself for this assault knowing that it was gonna be hell. The only difference this time was the boy's demeanor. His aura was that of preparedness and confidence.

'_This is getting old? Oh well, bring it on. I'm ready for you this time.'_ Yeung assured himself mentally. With knife in hand, the kid swung low and sliced one of his opponent's feet right off. The unfortunate raptor fell face first into the dirt, only this time its comrades didn't make the mistake of tripping over it. As they came around they jumped one by one over their downed kin. Seizing opportunity where it exists, Yeung reached down and grabbed the filosa raptors' tail. He then began to swing the entire dinosaur around him like a ball and chain. He continued to swing his adversary in a circle over his head until he managed to use him/her/it to knock the crap out of one of the other dinosaurs.

With their two compadres knocked cold and one of them missing its foot, the remaining two raptors weighed their options. They began to back away from Yeung slowly and turned to leave. Yeung had thought about letting them go but then decided against it.

"Where ya going?" asked Yeung sarcastically. "The party has just begun hehehe…." There was no way Yeung was going to let them escape. If he passed out, there was a chance that they could double back and kill him in his sleep. He started chasing the two rogue dinos back towards the cactus patch. Yes, the dreaded cactus patch. Soon there was no where left for them to run which meant that hand to hand combat with Yeung was the only way out for either of the reptilian bastards.

All three combatants, especially Yeung, were wary of battle. They had been locked in a life or death struggle for the past thirty minutes, and the heat was beginning to get to them. The two sides eyed one another for about a minute until Yeung decided to make the first move. He began to advance on his prey slowly. The boy hadn't eaten in over eighteen hours and this changed the way he saw these creatures profoundly. At first he wanted to kill them because of the death of his friends. Now however, it was a game of winner eats all. The raptors bowed up to him in the hopes of discouraging him but this had about the same effect as before. Then, without warning and without any extra subtle movements Yeung reached out and grabbed both carnivores by the muzzle and started bashing their heads into each other. He wanted to toy with his kill before eating it. He continued to smash their heads together until he grew bored with this.

"Any good cook knows that it's important to tenderize the meat before consumption," stated Yeung, letting the filosa raptors to fall to the ground in a heap. He bent down and picked one of them up by the shoulder and braced his hand against the monster's head. He then jerked the raptor's shoulder back so hard that he ripped its' forelimb off. Blood gushed from the place of amputation like a geyser until the fallen beast lost consciousness one last time. Yeung then uppercut the remaining carnivore in the gut with enough force to make a world heavyweight champion envious tearing into most of the creatures' intestines in the process.

Thinking the fight was over, Yeung began to walk back to the other three raptor bodies so that he could reclaim his knife. Suddenly, the one surviving raptor that he had knocked out earlier came up from behind and leapt for him. Yeung just barely managed to see him in time. The kid reached up and jabbed the dinosaur in the throat just as it was coming down on him. There the animal hung, impaled on Master Yeung's skinny fingers. The animal thrashed wildly as Yeung began to squeeze. He then ripped the things' windpipe out in one swift movement. He slung his kill over his shoulder and staggered over to where his knife lay on the sandy desert surface. After retrieving his knife, the powerful youth headed back to the tent with his prize.

On his way back to the tent, Yeung stopped to pay his respects for his new friends. He kneeled down before their prone bodies and began to dig two tiny holes. He then gently laid each of the dead tyrannosaurs into their respective graves. Next, he began to offer a few final words to them.

"Guys," whispered Yeung, "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me most. The more I see all these dead bodies pilling up around me, the more I'm beginning to see myself as a failure. It isn't the first time someone died because I was not there to help them, but I promise you that I won't fail anyone else. I swear to you. With God as my witness, I won't let Gingertown down. I ain't just getting revenge for myself. I'm getting revenge for everyone."

Yeung was in tears of anguish over the graves of two creatures that he had just met. He may as well have been presiding over the graves of his parents or that of his girlfriend for that matter. He stood up, dried his eyes, and continued back to his campsite.

The side order of filosa raptor that Yeung had just woofed down wasn't as good as he would have liked, but it was certainly better that the rotten piece of steak that he had pulled out of his backpack the night before. Contented, Yeung made his way to his tent for a much needed nap.

At around noon, the boy began to stir. Feeling stiff, he sat up and stretched. He felt several joints pop from this as he reached for his canteen. He unscrewed the top of the tin container and prepared to take a deep swig only to discover one thing: The canteen was empty.

"Oh shit!" cursed the young warrior as he shook the canteen back and forth hoping to find at least a small amount of water left.

"Bad time to run out of water," stated Yeung. "I'm in the frickin desert for Christ's sake! If I have to look for water, it's gonna set me back at least a day or so. Sure I can spare a few days, but I wanted to have a few days left to practice before my fight with Cell. Groan, I guess if I want to survive this ordeal I had better locate some water and fast."

He slowly crawled out of his tent dragging his backpack behind him. He put his tent back in its' capsule and headed over to the cactus patch where he and the filosa raptors had fought three hours earlier. The raptor's carcasses had begun to smell and this attracted vultures to the kill sites. Yeung covered his face with his hands hoping to keep the sickening smell at bay. Imagine the odor of fried snake combined with that of dead rat and you'll understand why this stench was such a big deal.

Upon reaching the cactuses, Yeung fished out his hunting knife and started drilling into the cactus trunks. This however only produced a few drops of moisture. After a few attempts at this activity, Yeung gave up and figured that there was a better way. After momentarily sheathing his knife, he bent over and began to dig with his hands. He kept digging until he found the roots of the said cacti. He drew his hunting knife again and cut a sizable spider root from the plant. He then peeled the root until nothing but whitish-green pulp remained which he popped into his mouth. He chewed on the cactus root for about half a minute and swallowed the whole peace. It tasted bitter but at least it would stave off dehydration.

With this task completed, he then turned around to continue on his way. Yeung withdrew his compass to get his bearings straight. He headed northeast, the direction that he believed Cell to be. He had a still empty canteen and a long way to go. He sped off running in the general direction of the Cell Games, the place that he believed would define the rest of his life as a fighter.

Four hours had past and Yeung was once again feeling the effects of the desert sun. He had not gotten a chance to fill his canteen and did not expect to do so anytime soon. In the distance, he could see the glistening snow covered peaks of a mountain range coming into view. Frustrated, Yeung stopped to consider his options.

"No way I'm going to be able to get over that let alone reach it without a full canteen," Yeung said to himself. "I can't just horde around a bundle of cactus stalks the whole time! There's just no way!"

Feeling as though he had finally reached his whit's end, Yeung fell onto the sand beneath him. He felt like all hope of making it out of the desert alive, much less making it to the location of the Cell Games, was lost. Defeated, the melancholy teen closed his eyes and turned his head to the side. He so wanted to make sure that his girlfriend, Neiegi, and her family did not die in vain. He felt a single tear slide down his cheek and drop to the scorched sandy earth, evaporating on contact.

"Nei, I failed you…" whispered Yeung to himself.

Suddenly, Yeung felt something ticklish brush up against his face. Surprised, the boy jerked his head back from whatever touched him only to behold a single dandelion weed.

"Vegetation!" declared Yeung as he shot up from the plant. He stared at the lone plant in wonder.

'_How can a dandelion survive in the middle of a barren wasteland such as this? It doesn't seem likely. Maybe it's a mirage.'_

Yeung then remembered something from his days of training under King Choppa…

_It was the third year of Yeung's training under the Lion of Martial Arts, King Choppoa. The old master had decided to take a group of his most advanced pupils to the deserts that neighbored his mountain fiefdom to teach them the fundamentals of survival in the wilderness. Together, Choppa and his students had braved the desert for three whole months, and during that entire time, only one of his students had died from exposure. They were miles from anywhere, the sun was hot, their water supply was dwindling, and a truly fearsome foe was hot on their heels. _

"_Listen well apprentices," spoke Choppa, "The Kuma Mercenary Clan is hell-bent on seeing to it that we don't make it out of their desert hunting grounds. I estimate that there will be at least two more weeks of traveling before we can escape their wrath and by then I fear that they will have already caught up to us."_

"_Then I say we make our stand here and now!" voiced one of his students. "Let them come! I am ready! I am tired of running! Let's die with honor my brothers!" _ _To this brave rhetoric there were wild cheers erupting from his fellow students. The rabble rousing lasted for about a minute until Choppa had had enough._

"_Silence you fools!" snapped the old warrior. "You know not what you are saying. They vastly outnumber us. That, and they are very powerful individually, especially their leader. We must have a plan."_

"_Master," said Fein, "What do you suggest?"_

"_Hmmm…" mussed Choppa as he surveyed the surrounding area. He soon caught sight of an unusually healthy bush that had lush foliage adorning its' branches. That's when it hit him._

"_We're in a desert aren't we?" Choppa inquired. "So, we find out where the largest and most useable water supply is and we us it as bait. Those bastards have to get thirsty some time, and when they do we will have a surprise waiting for them." _

"_But master," started Yeung, "How are we going to find this water source?"_

_At his star student's question Choppa simply smirked. "We follow the bushes."_

"_Huh?!"_

"_You heard me," asserted the former champ. "Where there is healthy plant life in a desert, there is water. Let's go men!"_

"_Yes Sir!" _

Reflecting on one of his earlier experiences while training under King Choppa, Yeung had finally come up with a way to solve his water crisis.

"That's it," Yeung stated abruptly. "All I have to do is find where the next nearest healthy plant is located. Where there is plant life in a desert, there will most likely be water."

Yeung sat his backpack down near the single plant and began to walk in an ever widening circle. It wasn't long before he had found yet another plant, this one some 250 yards from the first one. Yeung ran back to retrieve his backpack and repeated this process with the second plant. Some 150 yards from the second plant he found two additional plants, and 75 yards from them he found still more plants. This continued until he had discovered a continuous row of lush vegetation that ran around a gently slopping sand dune.

"Here we are!" said Yeung to himself as he ran over sand dune. "I just hope this is what I'm looking for."

When Yeung made it over the hill, he nearly cried tears of joy at what he saw. Below him there rested a beautiful oasis surrounded by fields of wild dates. He had found it. He had finally found his salvation. His mouth salivated at the prospects of both a desperately needed drink of water and a full belly.

Excited, he geared up into a full fledged run towards the body of water barely a few acres away from him, and just when he was about to reach the water's edge, he heard a mighty roar that seemed to resonate all around him. Frightened, Yeung turned to see a massive, carnivorous dinosaur striding down the slope of a sand dune. It was a Tyrannosaurus Rex, an adult one, and it was heading right for him.

"Holy Shit!" shouted Yeung as he fixed himself into a fighting position, "What is this place? Jurassic Park!!?" There was no escaping this. It was a well-known fact that T-Rex hunted based on vision, and this particular ravenous dinosaur was locked on to him. Normally, this would not be a problem for him, but his dehydrated and weakened condition ensured that he had no chance of running away. This was going to be one hell of a tussle.

"Alright big guy!" screamed the boy grappler in a mixture of fear and rage, "You want some? Fine! Let's do it!" Yeung threw his bag aside and began to run as fast as he could at the giant carnivore. Due to weakness, he stumbled several times in his charge.

The Tyrannosaur could not help but notice the exhausted state of its' prey. Before, it had sensed that this potential meal could prove to be quite troublesome. Now, however, it couldn't possibly pass up this opportunity. Locked on to Yeung, it sped forward with confidence thinking the fight was already won. Some distance before reaching Yeung, the large dinosaur opened its' massive jaws preparing to scoop up the teen fighter who was hap hazardously running at it. Fortunately for Yeung though, this was not to be the case.

At the last possible moment, Yeung leaped high into the air with a degree of speed so great that it left the Tyrannosaur falling all over itself stupified. This was it. He could either land and fight this creature head to head, a fight that he knew damned well he could not win, or he could quickly come up with a plan. Just before Yeung started falling towards the ground, an idea came to him. "HEY UGLY!" hollered the rambunctious fighter, "YOU LOOKIN FOR ME?!"

On the ground, the tyrant king looked up at the teen warrior who had just become airborn and opened its' impressive maul so that Yeung would fall straight down his throat. It would devoir this pitiful human that dared to trespass on its' domain.

Up in the air, Yeung straightened out his body for his initial strike. "Err.. ARIEAL ATTACK!" screamed the boy as he began to freefall headfirst at an enormous speed. He held his fists out in front of him as he fell 100, 200, 300ft. His velocity grew and grew until he felt a blast of air explode around him signaling that he had just broken the sound barrier. Yeung smiled inwardly to himself. This T-Rex was gonna be in for a very rude awakening. Soon, his attack had found its' mark. Yeung exploded into the back of his opponent's mouth like a bullet, knocking the T-Rex right into the ground beneath it.

Once inside the monster's mouth, Yeung began to beat the shit out of the creatures' soft interior. The creature writhed in sheer agony as Yeung dropkicked it's larynx into next Tuesday. The tyrannosaur belched and barfed as forcefully as it could in the hopes of relieving itself of the pain the youth was causing it. Yeung climbed back up it's throat and delivered one, two, three punches to his massive opponent's middle ear breaking it's ear bones in the process. Finally, the T-Rex managed to spit up both its' tiny adversary along with a great deal of its' own blood as well.

Yeung left a deep crater where he hit the ground with a loud thud. He slowly rose to his feet preparing to finish the job he had started. His battle strategy had worked beautifully by allowing him to cripple his far larger combatant without forcing him to have to use up very much of his own energy, energy that he didn't even have by the way, in a long drawn out slobber-knocker.

The T-Rex had quite literally bitten off more than it could chew. With its' vision becoming blurred, it tried everything it could to get to its' feet. After several shaky attempts involving the use of its' severely undersized forelimbs, it had finally succeeded in standing only to be hunched over in a fest of blood-filled vomiting. Unknown to his opponent, however, the tyrannosaur was not as affected as it let on. This was a well-conceived and desperate ruse that the T-Rex planned to use to its' fullest.

Sensing victory was at hand, Yeung decided once again to let gravity do the work for him. He jumped vertically high into the air and straightened out his body so that his final blow would once again follow through. He straightened out his left leg to enable him to hammer his downed opponent with a supersonic arieal kick.

"OK big guy!" yelled the under aged warrior, "It's Over!" Yeung continued falling at his adversary, and just as he was about to connect, the tyrannosaur sprung his own counter offensive into action. At the very last second, the rampaging dino spring-boarded itself high into the air towards Yeung using its' legs, and twisting it's whole body around, it sent its' massive tail into auto wind. What followed was a loud explosive sound that could be heard miles around as the giant carnivores' tail connected with Yeung's body. This sent the boy flying a good five hundred yards until he connected with a distant sand dune with the inertia of an explosion. The force of Yeung's impact upon the sand was so strong in fact that a crater somewhere in the neighborhood of five meters wide formed in the side of the dune. The sand dune caved in around Yeung creating a steep incline on all sides of the boy.

Expecting a more friendly meal this time around, the tyrannosaur slowly made its' way over to spot of Yeung's collision with the sand. Its' massive footfalls created impact tremors with every step causing still more sand to slide down the sides of the crater and onto Yeung's fallen form.

The sand and debris falling onto him caused Yeung to stir. He opened his eyes trying to get his bearings straight. He reached up and started shaking his head in an attempt to get the world to stop spinning. All around him he heard low-pitched booms, each one following the other, growing louder and louder as though some great ominous force were heading towards him. He got to a squatting position and through sheer will pushed himself up onto his feet. He accomplished this none too soon, for outside the crater, the enemy tyrannosaur was stumbling up the sides of the sand dune and would soon be bearing down on him with all its' wrath. He looked around trying frantically to find out which direction his opponent would come from next.

Suddenly and without warning, the great beast burst through the sand right behind him. Yeung turned around with only seconds to spare before the large predator clamped down on him with his massive jaws. However, the tyrannosaur was unable to complete the finishing bite. Just before its' jaws completely closed, Yeung grabbed the dino's long canine fangs that rested in both its' lower and upper jaws and used them to pry it's gaping maul open. This only served to tick off the tyrant king as the savage lizard began to sling the boy around like a sack of potatoes.

Yeung held on for dear life hoping beyond all hope that an opportunity would soon present itself. Soon, however, his grip on the monster's fangs weakened enough for the tyrant lizard king to flail him right over the side of the crater and face first into the soil on the outside.

"Damned! None of King Choppa's training seems to be helping me with this guy_," _sneered Yeung angrily as he pulled himself up. "God, I'm so tired... I just wanted a drink…" He looked up to see the adult tyrannosaur standing over him. It was leering down at him with a look of pure hatred etched onto its' face.

"I guess this is my only chance," Yeung said to himself. "I really didn't want to resort to such a cheap move but desperate times call for desperate measures." Just as the T-Rex was about to chomp down on him, Yeung half ran, half stumbled under the dinosaur. In its' own injured state the dinosaur was not able to keep up with the boy warrior. Once under the creature, Yeung began to use a little known martial arts move.

"Let's see how you like my Dragon Stomp!" shouted Yeung competently as he plowed his heel into the tyrant lizards toes. The creature wailed in agony as Yeung broke one toe after another causing the monster to fall to the sandy ground. Yeung then hoped on top of the great beast and began to deliver his patented dragon stomp repeatedly to its' chest, neck, and head. Yeung's face contorted to a sickening smile as he heard each and every bone in the tyrannosaur's body break as though they were made of paper mashie. He then brought his hands to his sides and readied himself for his next offensive on his downed opponent. He let loose with an uppercut so powerful that his fist impaled his opponent through the eye socket.

When it was all over, the once fearsome tyrannosaur lay there dying. Blood gushed out of its' head wounds and formed a crimson puddle all around it. On top of it, Yeung stood triumphant his hands covered in the blood of his adversary. When he turned to walk away he was stopped by a pain-filled moan. He turned back around to see the good eye of the tyrannosaur looking at him as though the once proud creature were peering into his very soul. It allowed a single tear to slide down the side of it's large muzzle as if it were saying 'please.' Yeung got the idea and simply nodded to convey his understanding.

"If this is what you want, I will honor your wishes." Yeung assumed a fighting position and delivered a crushing axe handle to the cranium of the downed monster giving it the mercy killing it so craved. The T-Rex's body twitched a few times before it stilled completely. Yeung then turned to stagger back in the direction of the oasis so that he could have his well-earned drink.

Author's Note: I hope that I am not getting too repetitive with the telling of my story. It seems that our hero is going to get more practice than he bargained for before it's all over. Anyway, please review. Below are the power levels of this chapter's characters.

Rolo Yeung: 112

filosa raptor: 50

Adult T-Rex: 85(The only reason he put up such a good fight against Yeung was because Yeung was exhausted.)


	5. King of the Mountain

Chapter 5: To Challenge the King of the Mountain

Deep inside one of the many canyons formed of wind erosion that plaster the Northern Wastelands, a short, stocky Rolo Yeung continued to stride forth on his way to the Cell Games with a newfound arrogance that few people exuded. A few hours prior he had finally earned both a drink and a full canteen after trouncing the mother of all Lost World rejects, and this accomplishment was making him feel cocky as hell. He felt now as though the sun rose and set on his ass. His defeat of tyrannosaurus bloated his ego to such a degree that it helped him forget all about all the nasty cuts and bruises that Godzilla wannabe dealt him back at the oasis.

'_Man, if I can kick a T-Rex's head in then surely nothing else can stop me. Cricket man is going to be in for a huge surprise when I get over the mountains,'_ thought the young master.

Yes, to Yeung it was beginning to seem as though nothing would stop him from reaching his objective: kicking Cell's green cockroach ass.

Not paying attention to where he was going, Yeung kept on strolling down the canyon until he stepped on something course and hard. Suddenly he was thrown ten feet into the air and wound up landing on his backside. Seething, the runt looked up to see a massive wild boar staring down at him. The boar itself could have easily weighed more than 600 lbs, and its' tusks curved out from not one jaw like most pigs but from both the lower and upper jaws.

Yeung in a rare moment of stupidity on his part just sat there with his stare frozen with that of the great mammal. The boar was the first to charge, and before Yeung could act, the pig was bearing down on him with all its' viciousness. It dove in between Yeung's legs and chomped down on his left calve muscle causing the kid to cry out in anguish. It then proceeded to toss Yeung around in its' mouth like a sack of potatoes. The boar bashed Yeung against rocks, trees, the ground, thorn bushes, anything that was nearby.

After thirty seconds of this joy ride, Yeung had had enough. Grabbing on to a nearby tree root, he looked back at the varmint that had dared to screw with him before drawing back his other fist for the punch to end all punches, and just as his fist was about to connect with the beast's muzzle, a gunshot rang throughout the valley. The beast let go of Yeung and began to run in the other direction before something struck it accompanied by another shot. The wild boar lay there convulsing for a short while before it finally stilled.

Looking in all directions, Yeung wearily picked himself off the valley floor. He soon spotted a pair of ragtag, bearded locals descending from the high cliffs.

"Stay Right There!" hollered one of the men. "Don't Move! We're coming down to help you."

"OK!" responded the young fighter.

Yeung sat on a nearby rock and waited patiently for the men to arrive. When they got close enough, Yeung could discern that they were indeed something similar to mountain men. One had a long bushy white beard and could easily pass for Santa Clause while the other one bore a full although shorter red beard. Each of the armed men were dressed from head to toe in every kind of buckskin and leather one can imagine, and neither looked as though he had ever heard of a shaving razor before.

"Goddamned kids!" yakked one of the yokels. "They know damned well that they haven't got any business out here."

"Now, now Swiss," said the other man in a calm tone, "There ain't no reason fer us ta get riled up. Besides, I don't think this kid's from around these parts anyhow."

"Come to think of it, you may be right," reasoned the first one. "I don't remember ever seeing him in the town."

"He looks like he hails from down south a ways," said the second one.

"I'm right here and I can hear everything you guys are saying," mouthed Yeung in a smart-assed manner. "And yes I do come from down South you dumb redneck."

"Wow, aren't you touchy?" replied the hairier of the two men as he reached into his tobacco pouch for another dip. "That ain't any way to talk to your rescuers."

"Spare me the lecture old-timer." At this last remark by Yeung, the younger of the two mountain men looked as though he were gonna throttle the kid but was held back by the older one.

"Come on Scot," said the older one who Yeung learned was called Swiss, "He doesn't mean it. Let's just get him to the town physician and he can go his own way from there. Whatever we do, we had best get a move on. Where there's one razorback there are bound to be more." To this, the tempered redhead turned to his partner and nodded. The older one bent down and aided Yeung to his feet. He then proceeded to help Yeung walk, but Yeung would have none of it.

"I thank you for your kindness, but I can walk by myself just fine," declared the young warrior. The old man released the rambunctious adolescent, and with a slight limp, Yeung began to walk as though nothing had happened. After the first few moments you wouldn't have been able to tell he had been in a brawl with a wild animal at all.

"Well," started the white bearded hunter, "I guess if your well enough to walk your well enough to help Scot carry that pig back into town."

"Whatever," shrugged Yeung as he grabbed one end of the wild boar carcass. To the astonishment of the two men, Yeung lifted the entire animal over his head and started to walk with it at a brisk pace.

"Jesus boy!" stated the old man. "How the hell can you do that!?"

"I'm well trained," answered Yeung. "I'm a fighter I'll have you know."

"A fighter you say?" replied the red-bearded man. "There ain't many of those from around here anymore. What manner of fighting do you in engage in? Boxing? Karate?"

"Kenpo," answered the boy.

"Kenpo? Never heard of it."

"Didn't think so," said Yeung. "Are there any fighters at all around here?"

"Most of the bad asses that traverse these parts are from out of town like you," answered the white bearded man. "Only one really good fighter is native to these parts."

"And who would that be?" inquired Yeung as he tied the pigs feet to the end of a rope leading up the valley walls.

"The local tourist trap and hero, Hard Copper, the Mountain King," said the red head. "And other than the mining company he also happens to be the reason we have any commerce in our community whatsoever."

"Hmm…" mussed the kid as he and the two men began to climb the rope leading out of the canyon.

Five minutes later, the three of them reached the top of the canyon walls. They began to tug the wild boar's body up the cliff lest its' smell attracted predators. Once again, Yeung's superhuman strength came to good use as he almost single-handedly brought the once majestic pig up over the ledge and back into their possession. Yeung looked up at his 'rescuers' trying to think of something to say that would spur on a conversation.

"So… How strong is this Hard Copper fella?" Yeung asked the hunters.

The two of them only looked at Yeung incredulously for a moment as though they thought he had been raised under a rock before finally one of them shook themselves out of their stupor and answered him. "You really don't know?!"

"Uh-uh," responded the short boy shaking his head. "I didn't even think anyone lived out here to begin with. Is he strong?"

"He's only one of the strongest men in existence," answered Scot in a candid manner. "He's the reason fighters even pass through here."

"Then I guess I should go see this man in action for myself."

The trio continued on like this for several hours before reaching the mining town of Ridgewood. All around the bustling silt trap were dust covered mine workers and their families going about their business to and fro. Upon arriving in town, Swiss and Scot checked Yeung into the coroner's office to get his hog bite sterilized.

"It's a good thing you got him in here when you did," explained the doctor. "That's the thing about hog bites. You can never tell. Their teeth practically are germs." The doctor continued to suave the gnarled tusk marks that lined Yeung's left calve with alcohol using a cue tip. Yeung winced as the doctor switched to using iodine on the wounds.

"Considering the size of that pig, I'm surprised that his leg isn't worse off than it is," added the coroner. "What are you made of kid?"

"I've been training ever since I was five years old," disclosed Yeung. "My master gave me every manner of training one can imagine."

"You keep mentioning your training," spoke Scot. "Just who is it that you trained under anyway?"

At Scot's question, Yeung just answered flatly, "King Choppa."

"No way!" shouted the coroner.

"Doctor, you know who he's talking about?" inquired Swiss.

"Sure do," acknowledged the physician as he bandaged Yeung's wounds. "You were probably too young to know him, but he won the eighteenth Tenkeichi Budokai over thirty years ago. He was said to be the Lion of martial arts that is until the students of the Turtle Hermit, Master Roshi, and those of the Crane Hermit, Master Shin, began entering the tournament once again. I went to watch those fights myself. They were nothing short of awesome."

"Alright, there we go," continued the doctor. "You're all set kiddo. Now all that's left is for you to foot the bill."

"I'll take care of that doc," offered Swiss.

Yeung sat up and headed out the door followed closely by the hunters. They engaged in idle chit chat while they walked down the halls.

"So Yeung, what are your plans from here on out?" asked Swiss kindly. "You can always stay at our place until you feel it's time to leave."

"It's a nice offer but no thanks," replied the teen warrior. "I've got places to go, things to do, and people to see. As to your question, I intend to ask around town and gather information on this Hard Copper. It may come in handy when he and I finally butt heads."

"What!?!" yelled Scot. His eyes looked as though they were gonna bug right out of their sockets.

"Are you crazy?" asked Swiss frantically. "He's the strongest man in the entire region. His hide is said to be so thick that bullets bounce right off him. I don't care how strong you think you are kid. You can't win."

"As for your question old timer, yes I am crazy," retorted Yeung hotly. "I crossed the entire Northern Wastelands on foot. Do you know any sane person who would do that. And also, I killed a tyrannosaurus rex with my bare hands. Who says I can't win?"

"You what!?!" shouted Swiss. "That's impossible! There's just no way you could have done either of those things! No one to my knowledge has ever crossed the Northern Wastelands on foot. The whole desert is said to be cursed, and also, nothing short of artillery fire would bring down something as huge as a T-Rex. Your full of it!"

"Fine! I'll prove that I did what I did." Yeung took a moment to look around. He scanned the surrounding crowd and the town square so that he could find something that would make fools of these nonbelievers. His gaze soon came upon a fully loaded freightliner parked out front of the local grocery store.

"Alright, this way you two." Yeung led the two hairy hunters over to the eighteen wheeled tractor and trailer and stood in front of the tractor's cabin.

"What? Don't tell us you're going to lift that," said Swiss pointing at the truck. "It easily weighs over forty tons fully loaded. The physics involved are mind-blowing." He was very close to deeming Yeung a kook at this point.

The two men, Swiss and Scot, began to laugh aloud. However, their smiles soon turned into looks of absolute shock as Yeung squatted down in front of the large trucks' grill. He gripped the underside of the bumper firmly and began to concentrate. Slowly, the entire vehicle began to lift almost effortlessly off the pavement, its trailer soon following. A small pressure-induced crater formed beneath Yeung's feet that indicated the forces involved in this utterly phenomenal feat of sheer power.

'_I can't believe what I'm seeing here. I really need to lay off the beaver tranquilizers,' _thought Scot who at this moment wasn't having nearly as much trouble fathoming what was going on as his friend.

'_This is only a dream. Only a dream. That's right. Any moment now those glycerin tablets are gonna kick in and I'll be alright. Just click your heals together and keep repeating 'There's no place like home. There's no place like home'.' _

Yeung gently placed the massive truck back on the street and turned back to the two mountain men. Scot was the first one to shake himself from his stupor.

"Holy cow!" exclaimed the redhead. "That was unreal! Woah!"

Scot rubbed his eyes again to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. He then extended his hand to the youth in a gesture of respect.

"I'm sorry," said Scot. "I saw you as just a snot-nosed kid, but now my eyes are wide open." Yeung took his hand and the two of them shook on it.

Wincing at his hand, Scot looked down marveling at just how strong the boy's grip was. He pulled his hand away and began to massage it. "As to your earlier question, if you want information on Hard Copper we can take you to the town bar and grill. Hard Copper is said to patron that club often."

"Alright, let's go," said the young warrior. The three of them moseyed on over to the local tavern where Yeung believed he could get some leads on Hard Copper's location as well as a decent meal. He didn't want to get sidetracked for too long by his search for one man. However, he believed that any battle he could get with the Mountain King would provide beneficial experience that could contribute to his upcoming battle with the monster Cell.

When Yeung and his hunter/fur trapper companions reached the bar, they were stopped at the door by a bouncer who was so huge he looked as though he could pass for an SUV on legs. For a moment the behemoth looked sternly down at the two bearded men and the boy who was traveling with them. Finally, his voice boomed.

"You two fellas can go in." The man pointed a finger at Yeung before continuing. "This tiny tot can't, so don't even bother giving me some lame excuse about him losing his ID. At this point in my career I've heard every one of them."

"Tiny tot!?!" shouted the indignant young fighter. "I'll show you. Follow me Magilla!" Yeung began to walk around back.

He looked back to see if the big guy was following him or not. Before entering a dark alley he glanced in Scot and Swiss's direction. "You guys go inside and take a seat. This won't take very long."

"I shouldn't even be waste'n my time on a runt like you," remarked the burly bouncer, "But if it's a spanking ya wantin, you came to the right man. I'm gonna beat you like your bastard father should have done."

The bouncer proceeded to follow Yeung around the building into a dark alley. Once out of sight, the bouncer removed his overcoat and sunglasses. Yeung didn't even see any reason why he should assume a fighting stance.

"If you want to back out pipsqueak, now's the time to do it."

"Nah, but feel free to do so if you're scared," chided Yeung. "I can see how being big in one area doesn't necessarily translate into being big where it counts most."

The double meaning of these words were not lost to the oversized bouncer who immediately tried to backhand the little smartass who dared to mock him. Yeung grabbed the large man's wrist just before his right hand connected with his face and began to apply pressure. A shot of pain traveled up the man's arm making it feel as though he had just stuck his forearm in the jaws of a snapping turtle. The giant of a man began to throw punches at the boy warrior in an attempt to force the youth to loosen his grip. Yeung deliberately allowed the hits to connect for the time being.

After about thirty seconds of just standing there and taking the massive hulk's assault, Yeung dropped into a fighting stance and thrust his left arm out with such force that when the palm of his hand connected with the belly of the brute, the man went airborne. However, because Yeung did not let go of the bouncer's wrist, the man recoiled back towards the teen warrior with enough force to give a crash test dummy whiplash. Yeung made good use of this recoil force, and with an almost spring-loaded throw, sent the pub bouncer sailing straight into a nearby dumpster.

Seeing that his 'fight' with the club bouncer was over, Yeung made his way inside the bar unhindered. Once inside, he took a stool at the bar right next to Swiss. The old hunter looked at Yeung and was compelled to ask him about what had happened but decided against it.

"Now, about that information on Hard Copper?" inquired the boy.

"If you want info on him, you need only to ask the bartender," replied the white bearded rogue.

"Hey, bartender!" shouted Yeung.

The bartender, a short chubby man with a mustache wearing an apron, walked over to where our hero sat. He eyed Yeung for a moment before asking "Aren't you a little young?"

"I didn't come here for a drink," said Yeung his voice once again full of indignation, "I came here for intel."

"Really? Well get in line kid," responded the chap in a cheap Irish accent. "I can tell you're not from around these parts both by the way you dress and the way you look. Almost every one of you damned outsiders is trouble."

At the bartender's show of utter disrespect Yeung was beginning to grow agitated. "Look buddy! All I want to know is where I can find Hard Copper." When Yeung said The Mountain King's name, the entire bar went deadly silent. The anxiety in the air was so thick that a loud fart would cause half the tavern to jump ten feet.

"Young'n…."

Rolo Yeung turned around to see a scrawny old man sitting at one of the tables in the center of the room. He had the look of a hermit, and his voice sounded like dry leaves rubbing against one another. Judging from the number of empty glasses in front of him, it looked as though he had been wetting his whistle for a good while.

"My boy. If you wish to find Hard Copper, follow the dirt road leading out of the northeastern end of town. The dirt road leads up to a trail on Mt. Stratus. About halfway up the mountain you will find a fighting dojo. It is there where Hard Copper lives and trains."

"May I ask just why you wish to find him?" inquired the bartender.

"Klimb, the boy wishes to do combat against the Mountain King," declared Swiss. "I have seen what this runt can do first hand. Do not judge him by his size alone. I believe your bouncer learned that lesson the hard way."

Upon hearing about his employee's disposition the bartender began to hyperventilate. "What did you do to Clarisse?"

"Don't worry mister," A shit-eatting grin spread across the boys' face before he continued, "I didn't kill him although he's probably on his way to a landfill right about now."

When the bar patrons heard this, they began to mumble amongst themselves. All of a sudden, the front doors swung open to reveal the bouncer who looked worse for wear. He was covered from head to toe with garbage, and when someone asked him about what had happened, he started sputtering incoherent nonsense about evil midgets.

When everyone turned their attention back to the bar, the first thing they could tell you was that the bartender, Klimb, began stammering a whole sentence of unintelligibles. He was brought back to the real world when Swiss began tugging on his apron.

"We would like to order some food. Yeung what will you have?" Swiss passed a menu to the boy wonder who immediately began to scan the options. He circled one of the items and handed the menu to the bartender.

"So you want the catfish filet sandwich?" asked the barkeeper.

"Yep, and give me a side order of fries," answered Yeung.

"Comin right up!" The bartender shuffled into the kitchen to pass the orders onto the cook. About thirty minutes later, Yeung, Swiss, and Scot were served. After about twenty minutes of eating and carrying on, it was time for Yeung to be on his way.

"Sorry we got off on the wrong foot earlier," said Yeung apologizing to Swiss before turning to the club's resident bouncer. "I'm sorry I beat you up big guy." He extended his hand to the large man in a show of mutual friendship. The bouncer eyed the hand for a moment before seizing it in a strong handshake.

"Wait, I didn't catch your name young'n," shouted Swiss.

"My name is Rolo Yeung." Yeung approached the older man. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a long, white fang which he handed to Swiss.

"This is from the T-Rex I killed out in the desert," Yeung explained. "Let's just call it a momento." He then turned to leave and continue his journey.

Yeung made his way out of town and into the woodlands just below the tree line of Mt. Stratus. After several hours of walking, he reached a mountain trail that looked easily traversable. He hiked his way up for about three miles until things began to get very cold. He changed into his wind breaker and kept on trudging over rocks and mountain glaciers until he came upon a ledge overlooking a high chasm. On the ledge he could make out what appeared to be an old army encampment house with a flag fluttering in the wind overhead. The structure itself looked like it would house a basketball court. Just in front of the building stood a grand Shinto gateway. Beneath this were a series of steps that led up into the building.

Yeung began to climb the stairs until he reached a pair of doors that looked as though they could receive a brontosaurus. He pushed the massive doors until they slowly inched open. He shut the door with a resounding thump that reverberated throughout the structure. When Yeung turned around he thought he had run face first into something not unlike a tree trunk causing him to fall on his rear. Rubbing his sore rump, Yeung looked up to see just what he had ran into. Before him stood what he could honestly say was the giant to end all giants. A man so huge that Yeung had to back up just to take the sight of him all in.

"Great…" said Yeung sarcastically, "Another Solem'n Grundy audition."

"Go home to your momma kid," ordered the large brute. The man himself stood at least eight feet tall and had the look of someone who had been afflicted with Acromegaly. His upper torso was literally etched in what Yeung could surmise were battle scars, and he had a deep tanned reddish skin suggesting that he was of tribal lineage. His hair was done into a ponytail that had feathers and shinny beads woven into it, and his hairstyle was topped off by a Mohawk. Truth be told, he looked like a giant Apache Indian. Next, Yeung's attention drifted to the giant's hands. Palms open, they must have been as big around as dinner plates. They were also well calloused indicating a life of either intense training, heavy labor, or both. Shaking himself out of his state of awe, Yeung quickly remembered why he had come here. He puffed out his chest and sized up the mountain of muscle before him.

"Are you Hard Copper, the one they call 'the Mountain King'?" Yeung's question sounded more like a demand. The native simply smirked at Yeung's mocksey.

"Yeah, that's me," answered the brute. "Who are you boy, and why are you here?"

"I heard of your strength from the villagers," continued the boy warrior. "I came here to try you out for myself!"

Hard Copper simply stood there and laughed at the little SOB who thought he was some kind of hardass. He ruffled the teen's hair a little before turning to what he believed were more pressing matters. He could tell that being ignored infuriated the kid in front of him, and Hard Copper could only chuckle to himself.

"Kid, I've spit bigger pieces of tobacco chew than you from my mouth," stated the tall man sarcastically. "Besides, I already have a challenger on my hands, so even if I were to fight you you'd have to wait your turn." The Mountain King pointed at a bulky fat ass who stood in a stone arena that was built into the room. He looked like your typical sumo wrestler: Folds of fat, ceremonial bottom piece wrapped around his unmentionables, looked as though someone raised the titanic, etc. Around the stone ring were rows of bleachers. Sitting on the first row were dozens of other challengers who had also come to test their mettle against the might of the Mountain King.

Yeung noticed a bench just outside the arena so he decided to watch the match. On the bench was a cooler that contained several types of soft drinks so Yeung grabbed one, sat down, and relaxed.

While Yeung was enjoying his soda, he took a moment to look around at the assortment of powerful looking fighters who had gathered in the bleachers. Warriors of every stripe including everything from Judo Hidoshis, to Karate sensei's, to Mongolian wrestlers packed the coliseum-like building. It didn't take long for Yeung to notice that some of the powerful looking martial artists were pointing and laughing at him.

'_Fools. I could kill every one of them as though they were ants under a magnifying glass. I'll let them laugh for now, but they will learn soon enough.'_

Soon, the match was underway. The sumo was the first one to make a move. He charged at Hard Copper and flung his arms around in a system of intricate movements. Just before reaching Hard Copper, the wrestler brought both hands together and thrust his palms forward putting all his weight and power behind the strike which happened to be a lot because of the sumo's immense size. The attack connected dead center on the Mountain King's rock hard abs with enough force to knock down a rhino, yet HC didn't even budge an inch. Panicked by this, the sumo stepped back and started delivering blow after blow to the massive Indian's face, upper body, and midsection. This continued until the wrestler started to run out of steam.

Noticing that the fire was beginning to leave his challenger's punches, Hard Copper decided it was time to make his move and put an end to this pitiful excuse of a match. He reached across the ring with his great arms which in themselves must have been at least six feet long and grabbed the exhausted wrestler by the shoulders. He then tilted his head backwards and delivered a bone-crushing headbutt to the other man's face. Reeling from the force of the headbutt, the sumo rolled out of the ring as though he were a beach ball with legs until he connected with a steel support column in such a way that the whole building shook down to it's very foundation.

Yeung stared in awe at the red-skinned fighter's strength. He had looked far and wide for at least one half-assed challenger, and now, just inside of the ring, that said challenger was standing before him. Removing his shirt, Yeung quickly finished his drink and prepared to enter the ring.

When the sumo wrestler stumbled to his feet, he raced for the entrance as quickly as his bulky legs could carry him. A large wet spot on both the front and back of his ceremonial diaper made it known to anyone in the building that the man had crapped himself.

With his latest match over, the Mountain King turned to leave the ring, but he was stopped by something that was tugging on his pants leg. He turned around to see Yeung whose eyes were burning with determination.

"Now it's my turn," declared Yeung.

"Kid, go home to your momma," advised the giant Indian.

This was the straw that broke the camel's back. Yeung had heard this same BS from one person after another his whole life. Everyone berated him for his size. He could defeat any number of guys who thought themselves to be strong fighters, but in the end it never changed.

"What's your problem kid?" asked the man mountain. However, his question fell on deaf ears. He tried again. "Hey! Answer me boy."

Anger roiled up within Yeung until suddenly he felt something snap inside of him. All of this rage needed an outlet, and wouldn't you know it? At that time, Hard Copper just happened to be in the path of the tornado.

Suddenly and without warning, Yeung exploded into HC with a jaw-shattering uppercut. The sheer force of the hit lifted the warrior native at least fifteen feet into the air. This earth-shattering action on Yeung's part created quite the impression with the brawlers and grapplers that comprised the audience. When HC came down, he struck the ground with a hollow boom, the sound of which carried straight into the bedrock underneath the building, causing the light fixtures overhead to momentarily flicker.

"Bastard, don't you ever talk to me that way again!" cried Yeung who stood over HC. Every bit of his body shook with seething rage, so much so that he was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.

Hard Copper just laid there sprawled out on the ring floor staring at the ceiling with a smile graced across his lips. He picked himself off the stone tiles that made up his indoor arena, laughing and smiling like a Cheshire cat as he did so.

This frightened Yeung a little bit. Other than King Choppa, he knew of no other fighter who had ever shrugged off such a savage hit. In front of him stood someone who was quite possibly the toughest fighter he had ever encountered.

"I apologize for the way I acted earlier," said the massive hulk in whose eyes a strange glint could be seen, "I see now that despite your appearance, you truly are matured many more years than the average warrior, and I don't just mean in terms of strength. I would be honored if you would face me in battle." The much larger redskin then spread his feet wide and settled into a fighting stance.

To Yeung, the stance he bore looked something like a cross between the typical sumo stance and that of a wide receiver. Yeung too fell into a fighting stance, his being one of a standard grappler's. "Finally, some results."

'_Could this be the battle that I had always thirsted for?' _

Yeung barely had time to settle into a stance of his own before Hard Copper came charging like a raging bull. The boy warrior braced himself as the mountain ruler flung his satellite dish-sized palms at him repeatedly causing the boy to stumble all over himself. Yeung blocked as best he could with his knees and forearms. Nevertheless, to Yeung it felt as though someone were repeatedly taking swings at his arms and legs with sledge hammers.

Hard Copper was enjoying every moment of his battle with Yeung. He revved up his powerful right arm and brought it down squarely on Yeung's cranium just as the boy regained his balance. Luckily, Yeung was able to intercept the mind-blowing attack. Still, the hit had the effect of pushing Yeung vertically into the concrete floor which was evident by the deep impact crater forming beneath him.

Yeung squinted in excruciating pain at this last attack. His knees felt as though they were seconds away from buckling, and had he been a normal kid they may have just done that. Still, he stood firm.

'_My God! The bones in my feet feel as though they're about to crack,' _thought the boy. He began to fall forward and just as he staggered, Hard Copper caught him in the jaw with an uppercut so powerful that it sent him flying 20, 30 feet into the air until he collided with a light fixture. The light fixture itself barely served as a speed bump in Yeungs' rapid ascent. He went through the light fixture and impacted with the ceiling above the arena. Just as Yeung was about to fall to the arena floor, he flipped over with the grace of a jungle cat and grabbed the cable hanging from the ceiling that once led to the now shattered light fixture. Hard Copper just stood there and looked on with amusement from where he stood in the arena.

"Good, good!" said the wily tribesman, "Show me more."

"If you insist!" chided Yeung who used the cable to allow himself to attain an upside down standing position on the ceiling. Suddenly, the youth leapt off the ceiling like some kind of ghoulish bat. Using the force of his jump combined with the additional speed gravity would allot him, Yeung plowed into Hard Copper with his patented Ariel Attack eliciting awe from the other fighters stationed outside the ring.

"Can you believe this kid?!" asked one martial artist.

"Someone pinch me," said another.

Hard Copper stumbled from the strike before falling on his backside. About ten feet away near the edge of the ring, Yeung's body hit the ground with a sickening thud the sound of which reverberated throughout the building like a sack of wet mayonnaise that had just been stepped on. It barely took a few seconds for Hard Copper to shrug off Yeung's strongest finishing move before he was on his feet again. Slowly, he began to stroll towards Yeung like a panther stalking it's prey.

Meanwhile, Yeung felt as though his entire body were sent through a meat grinder. He hadn't been fighting with the Mountain King for more than ten minutes and he already felt as though he had reached his limit. Never in his life had he ever encountered someone who could withstand the Ariel Attack of the Holiest Rite. Not even King Choppa himself. It was just unheard of.

'_Sweet mother of Christ! He's so freakin powerful. That attack would have punctured tank armor. If I don't do something quick, I'm gonna leave this fight in a body bag.' _

Hard Copper stopped just in front of Yeung. Then, out of the blue, HC grabbed Yeung by the throat and yanked him off the ground until he eye level with him.

"I'll say this much about you child," spoke Hard Copper, "In all my years of experience, I have only fought a bare handful of warriors who could put up a fight as decent as the one you've shown me. The only difference between them and you is that they were all in their prime. I can only imagine just how powerful you'll be in but a few years."

Yeung couldn't believe what he was hearing. For once in his life, he was actually getting something akin to respect.

"Still," continued the mountain ruler drawing his left fist back, "The difference in age between you and those who have come before you will be the only difference. As far as the fight's concerned, the results of our battle shall be the same as those I have had with other accomplished warriors." Hard Copper then let loose on Yeung with a devastating flurry of punches. Yeung tried as best he could to defend, but to him, it felt as though his blocks weren't even registering. It didn't help that HC was holding him by the windpipe either. Hard Copper's blows simply plowed through his forearms. In fact, Yeung may as well not even been blocking at all. Needless to say, the onlookers in the bleachers went nuts over this.

After about two minutes of being the Mountain King's punching bag, Yeung felt something snap inside him. To him, it felt as though a huge groundswell of power were coming up from inside of him. Whatever this new sensation was, to Yeung one thing was for certain: This power made him feel impure all over. His muscles bulged, his whole body trembled, and his vision clouded over with a deep crimson red like something out of a horror film. Also, his body began to glow with a dim ember. This scared the shit out of the mountain ruler, causing him to loosen his grip. Needless to say, this was all Yeung needed. In his crazed state, Yeung slowly reached up and grabbed Hard Copper's wrists. Then with a sudden twist, he wrenched himself free of the Native American's massive mitts.

By the time HC realized what was happening, it was too late. Using Hard Copper's forearms for leverage, Yeung delivered a mind-numbing kick to the Mountain King's sides causing the red-skinned brute to haunch over in pain. Then, taking advantage of opportunity where it presented itself, Yeung leaped towards HC and delivered a bone-crushing heel kick to his right temple, sending the tower of terror through the concrete floor of the arena. This spectacle sent their audience into a heated frenzy comparable to that one would find at the Super Bowl.

At this point, one would say Hard Copper was more than a little angry. Hell! He was furious.

"Damn you!!" boomed the giant Indian while getting to his knees. "That's it! I'm tired of playing around. This shit is over!"

'_Did he just say he was playing around?' _thought Yeung who was beginning to feel more than a little anxious.

Before Yeung could react, Hard Copper then brought both of his fists together and plowed the mother of all axe handles into the tile floor. This created a massive shock wave that knocked Yeung straight into the air. Hard Copper then caught Yeung with a massive heel-stomp to the gut that caused the boy wonder to connect with the ring floor at such a level of force that an impact crater formed in the concrete tiling.

Yeung tried to set up, but every time he attempted to move his lower body convulsed with seizures. Pretty soon Yeung found himself rolling around on the floor gasping for air.

"I don't know how you did what you did earlier but it all ends here," bragged the Mountain Ruler as he lifted his enormous foot for the finishing blow. "Send me a postcard on your way to the hospital!" He began to bring his foot down squarely on Yeung's head. However, just as it started to look as though this might be the end for Yeung, the small boy brought his hands up right before the hit connected.

What occurred next surprised everyone. A forlorn wind began to emanate from Yeung's palms. He didn't know why it happened or how it happened, but Hard Copper was sent skyward. The Mountain King kept sailing upwards until he bounced off the ceiling and slammed into the arena floor with a deadening boom. The Mountain King, bruised but not beaten, picked himself up yet again. He bore a stare that looked as though it could burn through lead.

Meanwhile on the other side of the ring, Yeung finally managed to work himself into a standing position. He felt a strange sensation filling his very being. To him, this peculiar feeling wasn't too dissimilar from what an athlete would experience when catching his second wind. There is only so much pain that anyone can feel before they stop feeling altogether. Yeung had reached this point. With a shrill battle cry, he sped across the ring barreling into his oversized opponent. All battle strategy, all planning had gone flying out the window. There could only be one recourse. He jumped into the air and wrapped his tiny legs around Hard Coppers neck. The boy then began to pummel Hard Copper's head with a flurry of punches, open palmed strikes, and headbutts. This went on for about thirty seconds until he noticed something shocking: None of his attacks were having any effect on Hard Copper. If anything, he was only succeeding in wearing the hide right off his own knuckles and forehead. Quickly, he pushed off the giant's torso and took up a stance some distance away.

"What's going on here!?!" demanded the panicked teen.

The mountain ruler looked on with mild amusement at Yeung's aggravation. "I'm sure your wondering right about now just why it is that your attacks aren't having any effect," announced HC. "If you must know, it's my skin."

"Your skin?"

"Yes," continued the oversized brawler. "Enhanced by both years of horrific training in the town's bauxite mines and by the kind of fighting that you and I are engaged in now, my hide has been toughened to the level of iron. Against this, few men or beasts can stand! Ha,Ha,Ha,Hah!"

"As entertaining as smacking you around has been, I'm afraid boy that it is time for me to finalize my victory," stated Hard Copper arrogantly. Getting ready to administer the coup de grace, he strode casually towards the boy.

Across from him, Yeung looked on at his opponent with a deep, passionate hatred. His legs ached something fierce, his arms at that point felt as though they were made of lead, his shoulders felt as though they were on fire, and his vision was beginning to fog over. In an effort to stave off unconsciousness as well as stave off the ringing in his ears, he thrashed his head from side to side.

'_Damn it all to hell! How could this have turned out so badly?' _wondered Yeung. '_Nothing that King Choppa taught me applies to this ape. Against this freak, my jujitsu has failed. If I somehow survive this walking mountain, I'm gonna have to remind myself to revise everything I've learned about fighting."_

Suddenly, Yeung felt something slam into him with a force unlike anything he had ever experienced. It turned out to be HC's massive right fist. There was no time to block. No time to feel pain. All the boy could feel was the sensation of his eyes feeling as though they were still left where he was just standing. Then there was blackness…

Hard Copper stood over the fallen body of his latest opponent. He regarded Yeung's laid out form with a stoic face before turning to face the other fighters in the bleachers.

"Someone come pick him up," ordered the gargantuan red man. Promptly, two muscled men rushed into the ring with a stretcher. One of the two wrapped his hands around the back of Yeung's head, and the other grabbed his feet.

"Alright then, one, two, three, and lift," commanded one of the men as he and his partner hoisted Yeung onto the stretcher and carried him out of the arena.

Hard Copper looked back at the retreating form of the two men carrying his latest victim. A rye smile formed across his scarred, craggy face.

'_I know that our paths will cross again someday. Until then, I'll continue to hone my power. Grow strong young one, and once again give me the true challenge I thirst for. _ The King of Mt. Stratus then broke into a fit of uncontrollable, sadistic laughter that turned more than a few heads.

Master Rolo Yeung: 115

Master Rolo Yeung after hitting limit break: 145

club bouncer: 20

sumo wrestler: 30

Hard Copper(The Mountain King): 155


	6. So We Meet At Last

Chapter 6: So We Meet at Last

The first stars of the coming evening flickered into view as a pinkish, violet twilight spread across the dusk sky of the Northern Wastelands. Far below the ensuing natural wonder, sitting cross-legged in his by now bleached white, sandstone arena was the maniacal android Cell.

For little over eight days, Cell had stood waiting in the middle of the square shaped stone monument that he had dedicated to both his past and future carnage, waiting for his self-ordained prophesy of Armageddon. During that time, he had kept himself busy by either blasting the occasional reporter or by indulging their monotonous questions. For most of the afternoon of that day however, there was no such media presence to bother him or to entertain him for that matter. Needless to say, he was bored out of his skull.

"If I had known it was going to be like this, I would have said 'eight days,'" the biological terror stated irritably. "What in God's name is keeping those pesky reporters? Hello, there's a big, scary, all powerful android here! Do I have to put up a sign?! What more do you pathetic humans want from me?"

"Hmph! If this trend continues…." added the android, "…then no one's going to care about my tournament! Who's going to watch as I kill Goku? How many insignificants do I have to erase from existence before those pathetic weaklings take me seriously?!"

Just then, a nearby abandoned television set that was wedged between two scorched bodies presumably belonging to the said TV crews, blinked on catching Cell's attention. Slowly, Cell got up and waltzed over to where the television sat. He sat down again, this time in front of the TV screen, and began to flip through the channels. He continued to check the programming until he found the ZTV News Network's designated channel. On the screen was a well-dressed newswoman covering what seemed to be the top story of the evening. Using one of the dead bodies as a charred pillow, Cell propped himself up before reaching into a nearby ice chest and pulling out among all things, a cold one. He then turned up the volume and began to listen very carefully to what the newswomen had to say.

"_This is Becky Gordon reporting for ZTV. Hello and good evening. We are broadcasting live from the mining community of Rust Gulch deep in the Northern Wastelands where apparently some strange teenaged boy goaded nine time World Sumo Champion and twelve time Mongolian Wrestling Sire Hard Copper, better known by the locals as 'The Mountain King' into a heated free for all_."

Microphone in hand, the newswoman strolled over to a poster of Hard Copper before continuing.

"_As many of you fans of the martial arts know, Hard Copper is regarded as one of the strongest if not the strongest……Hey!!_"

Just then a large mustachioed, afro-haired man in a brown karate gi snatched the mic right out of the female broadcaster's hand. At first, the female reporter tried to get it back. She stopped however when she realized just who she was with.

"_Mister Satan!_" shouted the flabbergasted lady.

"_Yes!_" replied the hairy celebrity, "_It is I Mr. Satan! The reigning, heavyweight Martial Arts Champion of the World!_" The loud-mouthed hairball then went on a loud screed of seemingly endless obnoxious laughing.

"_It really is good to have you here sir,_" stated the newswomen. "_I take it your just passing through on your way to the Cell Games. Am I correct in this assumption?_"

"_Why of course Beck!_" half-shouted the blustering grease ball, "_I have to take the time out of my busy schedule to give some comfort to my fans along the way there._" Mr. Satan then looked to the camera and gave a big, goofy thumbs-up to the viewing audience.

"Aren't you at least nominally worried about your match with Cell?" inquired the news lady. "He claims that he was responsible for the disappearances of hundreds of thousands, possibly millions of people!"

"Hah! That green-skinned freak show might as well grab a pistol, cock it to his temple, and pull the trigger," gloated the large man. "Either way, after tomorrow the end result is gonna be the same. It's time that I, Hercule Satan, the people's champion, put an end to his reign of terror. Come Sunday, my boots are gonna find a new home up inside his shelled anus."

At this display of utter ignorance, Cell could only roll his eyes.

'_Where do they make these idiots?' _wondered the android. Meanwhile, the newswomen continued to interview the 'people's champ' off the record.

"That puts my mind at ease just hearing it sir," said the newswomen. "Now, what are your opinions about the young lad who challenged the Mountain King to combat this afternoon? We heard from the locals that this boy Rolo Yeung, managed to endure a forty-five minute fight with the regional champion of all martial arts."

Upon hearing this news, Mr. Satan began to sputter nervously. Finally, after about thirty seconds of deliberation he gave his comment.

"Well…that just goes to show you that Hard Copper isn't really as strong as people make him out to be," Hercule quickly explained, "He's what we pros like to call a 'protected fighter.' By this, I mean that he never leaves his own little dusty corner of 'civilization' if you can call it that. Do you ever see him taking part in the Tenkaichi Budokai? No! The man is ducking and dodging real competition, but he can't hide from me forever."

"Sir, you do realize that anyone who wants to fight him can go to his dojo and face him man to man," explained the broadcaster. "Why don't you challenge him this evening?"

"Errr…well I want to save my strength for my fight with Cell. Ah,Hah,hah,hah!"

"Hmm.. that does make sense," said the woman. "What are your thoughts on the young boy who right now is laid up inside this hospital ward?"

Hercule looked squarely into the camera before continuing. "I have just one piece of advice for you boy! Stay in school and don't do drugs!" He then handed the microphone back to the news lady before proceeding to walk out the door. He was stopped however before he even reached the doorknob….

"Aren't you at least going to go in and talk to the kid?" asked the lady. "He could use a visitor right about now. Seeing the world champ might make him feel better."

Mr. Satan thought about this for a moment before finally saying "Sure, why not?" He opened the door and stepped into the room to see Yeung slipping his shoes on before getting ready to head out. Yeung looked up at the afroed man.

Yeung pointed at him before saying "Hey! You're the guy who trained all those weaklings in West City."

"Huh!?!" gasped the champ who was starting to get very uncomfortable.

With a smirk on his face, Yeung went on to explain further. "Yeah! Little over a week ago, I turned a bunch of wusses inside out at the West City Karate Dojo. They were nothing."

"That was you!?!" screamed the big man.

"Yes it was," answered Yeung.

"WHY?!"

"Because they presented me with one more chance to test my skills," answered Yeung. "That and they provided me an opportunity to put another win notch under my belt."

"W-what do you want with me?" asked the champ nervously.

Yeung stroked his chin a few times as he thought about this. "I'm not sure yet. I could kick the living crap out of you right now and continue to add to my number of victories. That and it would prove to everyone that the only 'protected fighter' around here happens to be you. Believe me, I heard what you said about my last fight from inside my designated room. That loud-assed voice of yours is hard to miss. Then again, if you're anything like that pitiful instructor student of yours in West City, I really don't see how a fight with you could be worth my time. Maybe we could reach an agreement of some sorts; Something that will give you a chance to preserve whatever semblance of dignity you still have."

"Err, eh, what kind of agreement?"

"Simple, fruity ass," continued Yeung. "As the recognized world champion of fighting sports you happen to be a very rich man. I might let you off in exchange for two itty, bitty little things."

"OK kid, how much do you want?" Mr. Satan asked.

"You catch on quick! Pay me ten million zenny right now!"

"Why do you need ten million zenny?!" prodded the living grease ball, " What in the hell would a little snot like you want with that kind of cash?"

"Sometimes, the training I want isn't something that's readily available on the open market," Yeung answered. "Customized training and equipment cost money. That a good enough reason you, flake?" Yeung slowly strolled over to Hercule and put his arm around his back in a quid pro quo manner. "Believe me, I'll find a use for it."

"Err…fair enough I guess," muttered the champ while he wrote out the check. "What was that second 'little' thing that you wanted?"

"I need a lift," said Yeung. "You're heading to the same place I am. I want to hitch a ride with you. Is that a problem?"

"Not really…," responded Mr. Satan.

"Great!" declared the boy wonder, "I'll follow you out to you vehicle."

"Oodles…." muttered the champ under his breath, his lack of enthusiasm for this venture more than evident. He handed over the check and then turned and left the room in a huff saying something about 'evil midgets.'

Outside, a few more reporters and their respective camera crews waited anxiously for the would-be champion. Almost simultaneously they flung flurries of questions at him, some of which were articulated in such a way that the attention craving buffoon had to tread softly just to provide answers that were less prone to being construed by the pundits later on that evening.

"Sir! What was the nature of the conversation between you and Master Yeung?" asked one of the journalists.

"When are you going to face this Rolo Yeung in the ring?" inquired another.

"Is it true that Master Yeung is responsible for putting the entire West City branch of your world renowned dojo in traction?" probed yet a third.

"Errr…quiet down!" bellowed Mr. Satan. It was obvious that the man was not in a good mood especially after what transpired between him and a certain under aged warrior. "As for your first question, this Master Yeung is a brat pure and simple, and one of these days he's gonna get what's coming to him."

Back inside his hospital room, Yeung couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the big man's tantrum.

'_Dude, I'm going to have to give myself a high-five after this.'_

Meanwhile, Hercule continued to provide comments to the press corp….

"Secondly, I'm not sure when I'll face either him or Hard Copper in the ring but you can bet that it's gonna be soon. Lastly, after my recent discussion with the boy I can honestly tell you that he was solely responsible with putting not just my students in West City in the hospital, but also almost every one of my students in the next ten cities over."

At this startling revelation, the entire press corp went deafly silent. Some of them even began to walk towards the room where Yeung was holed up. Just as one of the correspondents was about to reach for the door knob though, Mr. Satan grabbed the enthusiastic reporters' wrist.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," warned the champ.

"Why not Mr. Satan?"

"Because that kid is a menace! That's why!"

Then, the said door slowly opened and Yeung came walking out. The press tried to haggle him, but he simply ignored them and continued down the hospital wing. He continued to make his way down the hall until he reached an elevator. The press continued to follow him and some even stepped into the elevator with him.

"Mr Yeung…,"started one of the journalists. However he was cut off by the young grappler.

"Master Yeung!" stated the teen fighter. "Call me by my proper title."

"OK…Master Yeung, got it! During the past three months, why did you beat so many of Hercule Satan's best students to within an inch of their lives? What motive could you have possibly had?"

Yeung continued to stare at the floor panel for a second before replying, "The way I see it, I did those fools in West City a favor. They now have the pleasure of seeing just how little their 'teacher's' training has done for them. Maybe now they will have the common sense to find themselves a real master." The elevator finally reached the first floor and Yeung stepped out followed closely by three or four journalists. "That and back in the days of my teacher, if you wanted to discredit a school of thought you needed only to walk in and clobber all the guys in that respective order."

"Hmm.. I see," responded the journalist. "You do realize that those students are in a good position to press charges. They could call the police."

At this last comment Yeung could only chuckle. "What can the police do to me?" asked Yeung, "They'd never be able to take me alive. I could kill an entire precinct if I wanted to. All I'd have to do is stand still until they ran out of bullets. When or if they show up then they had better be packing grenade launchers."

Upon hearing this, the reporters could only shake their heads in denial, "You can't be serious boy."

"Oh! You don't think I am!" shouted Yeung indignantly, "Watch this!" Yeung through his backpack to the floor, pulled off his shirt, and walked over to one of the support columns in the hospital lobby. Suddenly and without warning, he dropped into a fighting stance and began to focus his inner latent energy. He then let loose with a God awful punch that ripped through the column with a sound reminiscent of a traffic accident, the vibrations of which carried through to hospital's foundations.

This last action by the teen terror caused mass panic to set in all over the hospital. Everywhere alarms began to sound off with patients and medical personnel alike began either kissing the floor or settling under whatever pieces of furniture happened to be within reach. Unable to decide whether it was an earthquake or a bombing, the lobby security guards got in touch with whomever.

Yeung turned back to his little cadre of journalists with a shit eating grin plastered on his face. Some of the press corp looked as though they were ready to piss themselves while others got ready to throw yet another volley of questions at our hero.

"M-Master Yeung!!" stuttered one of the journalists, "That was spectacular. I'm starting to see why one such as you was able to clean out Hercule Satan's West City division."

"So it is true," started another. "You really did take on the Mountain King!"

"Yes, I did."

"Please, Master Yeung, tell us what school you trained under," pleaded one journalist.

"What are your future plans?" asked a second.

Yeung let the talking heads yammer on for about thirty seconds until he decided to answer anymore questions. "I trained under the tutelage of King Choppoa, the eighteenth Tenkaichi Budokai champion and one of the strongest men I've ever known, and if you're curious as to the nature of my future plans I'll tell you; I intend to take part in the Cell Games. Not for glory. Not for fame, but for honor."

Press corp in tow, Yeung turned to leave the lobby. He then spotted 'The Champ' himself trying to slip out the front door without him.

"Hey you! Wait up!"

Hercule looked as though he werea deer caught in the headlights. He turned around to see the last person he wanted to see right now.

'_Aww crap! I almost got away too.'_

Grinning ear to ear, Yeung walked up to Mr. Satan. The man looked as though he had just seen a ghost for his face had taken on a pale pigment.

"Thought you were gonna slip away didn't ya?" wise cracked the teen troubadour.

"Uhhh no," started the large, hairy man. "I was just gonna go warm up the engine Heh...he…he."

"Yeah, I bet you were," remarked Yeung sarcastically. "Come on you big heap. Let's get going. We're burning daylight as it is." Yeung rushed Hercule and his chauffer straight out the front door.

About thirty minutes later, both Yeung and a very uneasy Hercule were on the road, out of town, and on their way to the Cell Games. Hercules' limozine was just about what Yeung would expect from someone of his class: Cosmopolitan though bland yet still luxurious.

"So what caused you to want to compete in the Cell Games kid?" asked Mr. Satan, "Wouldn't you be better off going to school? You're too young to be someone I'd expect to live this kind of life."

"It's a long story," answered Yeung.

"It's a long drive."

"Fine, whatever," shrugged the young master. "There are several reasons actually, the first one being revenge."

"Revenge?" repeated Hercule.

"Cell killed someone very dear to me," explained Yeung, "He also destroyed my home town. I had only been living in Gingertown for about seven months but already I have a good staple of memories from my time there."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that kid," said Mr. Satan with a sullen face. "Do you have any parents?"

"No. They're dead."

"By Cell?!"

Yeung only shook his head. "No. It was someone named Piccolo Daimoa."

"How long ago?"

"About nine years," answered Yeung. "This gets back to one of my other reasons for competing in the Cell Games. I'm hoping to finally meet someone there."

"You've got a lot of demons in your soul," stated Hercule bluntly.

"Which is precisely why I'm about to ask you what I'm about to ask you!" declared Yeung, "I want to have about ten minutes alone with Cell before the Cell Games even start."

"Look kid, how do we even know that this Cell is the real monster of Nikki Town? For all we know he may be taking credit for someone else's doings."

"Well then why are you even going to fight him?" asked Yeung.

"Err…well I want to use the Cell Games as a way to become famous," Hercule explained plainly. "You know how everyone's a sucker for a hero story."

"Well there's good reason to believe that this Cell is the monster of Nikki Town we're looking for," said Yeung matter a factly.

"Hah! Fat chance!" shouted Mr. Satan. "He's just some wannabe terrorist who wanted to use the real Nikki Town monsters' identity as a way to catapult himself into superstar status. You should check out You Tube sometime kid. The world is full of folks like Cell."

"We'll just have to find out when we get there," said Yeung in a determined manner.

"So Herc, are you gonna let me have a few minutes alone with Cell?"

"Sure, why not?" replied the champ.

It only took the unlikely traveling companions a couple of hours of riding to reach their destination, and upon arriving, Cell's arena was a sight to behold. The arena that Cell had built ten days prior to their arrival had already been bleached white by both the sun's rays and the arid conditions of the surrounding ecosystem. The entire base of the ring was made up of stone slabs up to six feet thick topped off with an additional layer of stone tiles that made up the floor. At each of the four corners of the arena, Cell had added four towering spires that seemed to convey the very essence of his power.

At the time, the said evil android looked out at the black limozine that had pulled up just ten yards away from his fighting ring. He could feel the life forces of two humans in the elongated car. One of the humans had a slightly stronger ki signature than normal humans, but it wasn't the feeling of this weakling that interested him. There was also one other power that he felt that when compared to normal humans, would stick out like a sore thumb. He had sensed two other weaker presences up on the cliffs.

Both humans stepped out of the limo, and Cell finally got a chance to get a good look at

them. One looked like a professional wrestler with an afro, and the other looked like an undersized Asian kid. It was then that he realized something.

'_That boy… Based on the vibes I'm getting from him, he must be at least two hundred times stronger than a normal human.'_

"Hmph, no matter," whispered Cell, "He couldn't even beat Muten Roshi. If he stands before me, he'll be thrown asunder." The evil android could only smirk.

Meanwhile over by Hercule's limo, Yeung and Hercule Satan were having a private conversation. Suddenly and slowly Yeung began to walk towards the ring carrying such an aura of determination that had it been anyone other than Cell, he/she would have been slightly intimidated. Yeung continued to move forward until he was staring Cell face to face. Because of Yeung's deficiency in height, he was forced to tilt his head upwards just so that he may face the terror of the world.

The two of them faced off for about two minutes before either of them said anything. The wind howling around them was the only sound that could be heard for miles around. Finally, as if only to break the silence….

"Funny," said Yeung sizing up his adversary, "You seemed so much bigger on TV."

Cell merely smiled before saying "Just imagine what television could do for you."

This insult had struck a nerve so embedded in Yeung's inferiority complex that he had to use every ounce of willpower he had to keep from going off on this living example of pest control fodder. Rage swelled within him so much so that if one looked closely they could see that a vein burst in his eyeball.

"You filthy bastard!" mouthed the boy fighter his voice shaking with anger. "You killed so many people I knew. So many that I cared for. And for what? Huh?! Speak up!"

"I've killed many people both in this life and in the lives of those that I am made from," spoke Cell. "You will have to be specific on which people you are talking about short shit."

"I'll tell you who I'm talking about," uttered the teen warrior, "You will know them by the pain I inflict upon you! Pain that I have been carrying inside me since I was but a small child. You will know them by every blow I land!" By this time, Yeung was visibly shaken, and he had been clinching his fists so hard that he had drawn blood.

"Know this Cell," stated Yeung. "Only one of us will leave here alive today. There is a man price that must be paid in blood!"

And with that Yeung turned to leave the arena. As he was leaving, Cell began to laugh. The laugh itself was a grating kind that worked on the boy fighter's nerves.

'_Poor pitiful fool doesn't know what he's up against,' _thought the android.

Power Levels:

Master Rolo Yeung: 118

Hercule Satan: 50

Perfect Cell: Over 1 billion powered down.

Author's Note: You're all going to love the direction this story takes in the next chapter. And if you're wondering, yes Yeung is a human fighter. The Cell Games are going to get wild with the inclusion of my original character. Please provide critical reviews.


	7. Only Fools Rush In

Chapter 7: Only Fools Rush In

Chapter 7: Only Fools Rush In

Disclaimer: I own no part of DragonBall Z or Dragonball. Those animes are the exclusive property of Akira Toriyama. However, Rolo Yeung is my original character.

After his less than cordial rendezvous with the evil android Cell, Yeung strode over to where a certain would-be champion Mr. Satan, was messing around. Suddenly, Mr. Satan started waving at someone in the distance.

Yeung followed what under normal circumstances would be the line of sight of the village idiot until he spotted what looked like a two man TV crew camped out atop a distant rock face. One of the men who looked to be in his late fifties, had dark coal black hair and wore a very cosmopolitan business suit. He held a microphone and as such had to be the journalist. The second male who looked to be in his late twenties wore a tacky baseball cap and carried a camera.

Yeung then turned around to see the afroed goofball taunting Cell.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea Herc," warned the pint-sized warrior.

"Pfph! What's he gonna do about it?" asked the champ arrogantly.

"Suit yourself."

"I will," replied Mr. Satan with a light snicker.

What the afroed gorilla did next really caused Yeung to question both the man's sanity and his intelligence. The big goofball reached up and began to motion the TV crew down from the rocks.

"Are you naturally this stupid or do you just practice?"

"What are you talking about short shit?!" shouted Mr. Satan irritably.

"You're putting them in serious danger," explained the teen fighter, "That sick bastard might take them hostage. Did you even consider that?"

Mr. Satan tightened his brow in frustration before replying. "They're journalists. They put themselves at risk. Let them come. It's no skin off my back."

"As if I have need for hostages."

The two humans turned to see the monstrous Cell staring at them, a cold smirk etched across his face.

Hercule shook his fist menacingly at the insectizoid-looking doppelganger saying "You'll need everything you can get when I get done with you!"

"Oh_ pleeaase, _I don't put my hands on trash," said Cell in a cocky voice, "Besides, it's neither of you I'm interested in."

Peeved, Hercule turned around with a huff and marched off to a different corner of the ring.

"Hey Herc!" chimed Yeung. "Do you have anything to drink?"

Mr. Satan eyed Yeung for a moment before asking, "You twenty-one?"

"Like that'll stop me."

"That's what worries me," muttered the older man, "In that case, there's some Irish scotch in the refrigeration unit."

Needing no invitation, Yeung turned and ran to the limozine, intent on both wetting his whistle and getting a good buzz in the process.

"Poor kid's gonna stunt his growth," muttered the would-be champion.

"I heard that you bum!"

"Just shut up and pour me a glass while you're at it!" replied Mr. Satan.

"And pour me some too!" hollered Cell. "It's freaking hot out here!"

Mr. Satan turned to look at the killer android standing in the middle of the arena. At this time the TV crew was making its way to the ring.

"I guess there's nothing wrong with one last drink," mouthed the champ all the while leering at Cell.

"Get out of my face you filthy vermin!" ordered Cell irritably.

Mr. Satan was a little taken back by this, but he remembered however that he needed to save face in front of the camera. Suddenly, he found a microphone shoved in his face. Hercule looked down to see that it was his announcer sidekick that he had worked with over the years.

"Could you share with us Mr. Satan just how you feel right now?" inquired the announcer.

Mr. Satan pointed at pointed at Cell before saying, "I have sympathy for Cell here whose reckoning has gone awry. He couldn't possibly have known that there was someone in this world as strong as I am."

"Yes, yes…," prodded the ringside announcer.

Hercule pointed at Cell coolly before continuing, "He went and talked like a big shot and now it is too late for him to get off by just saying 'I'm sorry.'"

"Listen to me Cell! Your secret is out! The way you destroyed our capital's military forces was through using tricks involving explosives, but that isn't going to work on me!"

Cell continued to stare off into the distance with disinterest. This behavior however, irked the Champs' pet announcer.

"He's pretending he can't hear you," stated the announcer.

"He's so nervous, he doesn't know what to say!" explaining the Champ naively. The two men then began to taunt Cell the way one would a child.

Just then, Hercule felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He looked around to see Rolo Yeung holding a few drinks. He handed one to Mr. Satan before walking over to Cell with the other one.

"Bottoms up cockroach" mouthed Yeung snidely while tossing the bottle to the android." He turned around to find Hercule and his announcer still taunting the green-carapaced android.

Yeung only shook his head in pity before speaking, "Guys, I really don't think that's such a good idea." However, Mr. Satan and his announcer sidekick simply ignored the boy.

"Fine, have it your way." Flustered, Yeung turned in a huff and walked to a distant corner of the ring.

Mr. Satan looked over in the teen's direction. "Come on boy!" shouted Hercule, "Lighten up!"

Just then, all those present in the ring heard a strange though faint noise. Yeung, Mr. Satan, and the TV crew up to see a peculiar, ethereal blue light source flying through the air, and it was approaching fast. As it descended, Yeung could make out the form of a person taking shape.

Finally, the mass of blue light landed, and from it emerged a strange man with flaming black hair that stood on end characterized by a high widow's peak. His facial expression was among the most serious Yeung had ever seen, and his stature was barely a foot taller than Yeung's own. The strange fellow wore a tight fitting, blue spandex suit that included white boots with matching gloves and what looked vaguely like a yellow bullet proof vest.

Intrigued by the stranger who had just flown in, the announcer walked over to the edge of the ring closest to the spandexed newcomer followed closely by his trusty cameraman.

"Hey, who are you, and what are you doing here?" prodded the announcer.

The odd man scowled with utter distain at the announcer before snapping, "Get out of my face you worm!"

Taken back by the peculiar man's rudeness, Hercule's announcer sidekick quickly hid behind the Champ.

"I'd have to say that guy is nuts," muttered the ringside announcer under his breath.

"He's probably one of my fanatical fans," said the champ fancying a guess.

"How could he just fly in here like that?" asked the cameraman aloud.

"It's probably just some elaborate hoax," stated Mr. Satan unsurely.

"I donno."

Everyone present pivoted to see Yeung standing behind them. The teen waited a moment before continuing.

"My master, King Choppoa, once told me of a technique he bore witness to at the Tenkaichi Budokai."

"Grrr…Look you little snot!" shouted an irritated Mr. Satan, "I refuse to believe that people can fly! First, you talk about believing in monsters, and now it's flying! Stop living in fantasy land!"

With a quick "Whatever..," Yeung crossed his arms and sat down Indian style on the edge of the ring.

Just then, a sound not too dissimilar from rushing water could be heard in the distance. Everyone present, aside from Cell, instantly did an about-face. Just outside the ring stood a monstrously tall, red-headed man in green armor and black spandex. The armor itself had the Capsule Corporation insignia branded onto the right breastplate.

Turning to get a better look at the ginger-topped behemoth, Cell could only smile as he addressed the newcomer. "Well, what a surprise!? Android 16! You're still alive and kicking, and with beautiful repairs no less."

Cocking an eyebrow, Yeung could only ask coolly "Who the hell is this?"

"Who cares?!" said Hercule with obvious disinterest, "It's obvious by the way he looks that he's a nobody."

Just then, another sound could be heard in the distance, and once again, everyone present turned in the direction of the noise. In the air and at a fair distance, several more bright light sources could be seen approaching at a very high velocity, and as they descended, another group of strange people emerged just outside the ring.

Adjusting his glasses, the announcer asked, "Where do they wall keep coming from?"

"That trick must be in vogue," suggested Mr. Satan, "They might even be in league with Cell!"

Each of the strange people in question were dressed in some fighting gi or suit, two of which displaying the symbol of the Turtle Hermit school of fighting. Two of the weird characters, one a grown man the other a boy no taller than Yeung himself, had long, rigid, blond hair that stood on end as though held up by static electricity. Another one had long lavender locks that ran down his back while still a forth one had a third eye situated in the center of his forehead.

Out of all of them, it was the tall, green man with the turban that had Yeung shaking in his boots. Upon seeing this giant with big pointy ears, the tension began to coil up inside his chest until the boy felt as though if he didn't do something fast, he would snap in two. Rage coursed through Yeung's blood like liquid lightning, and perspiration rolled down his smooth face. Finally, like a detonator, he exploded…

"YOU BASTARD!"

Every one of the strange newcomers whipped around to see the body of the young master sailing towards Piccolo at nearly superhuman speeds, his shrill battle cry reverberating through the air as he drew his fist back for a devastating punch.

"What th..!" sputtered the tall Namekian man before catching sight of the pint-sized fighter coming at him.

However, just before Yeung could even get within 15 feet of the olive-colored alien, Piccolo flung a high pressured wave from his eyes straight at the teen fighter.

The next thing Yeung knew, he felt himself being thrown backwards almost as if the wind itself did it, and he continued to fly backwards until he collided with the hard-packed earth some distance away.

"What the heck was his problem?" asked a short bald guy who was with the strangers.

"Not sure Krillain," said the man with the spiky blonde hair, "Piccolo, do you know that kid?"

"Goku, I've never met him before in my life!" answered the green giant in a gruff voice.

"Well, he sure knows you."

"Hmmm..," mused the tall alien.

"Son Goku."

The spiky-haired warrior turned to see that the massive Android 16 had walked right up to both himself and the others.

"I was built in order to kill you," stated the mechanized giant flatly, "Do not forget that."

As Android 16 walked away Goku turned to Krillain and whispered, "That guy sure is grim, ain't he?"

Meanwhile, Yeung was pulling himself out of a fair-sized crater courtesy of Piccolo. He worked himself onto his hands, cursing wildly as he did so.

'_What the hell was that?!' _wondered the teenaged terror, '_I nearly had him and then…'_

Back in the ring, Hercules announcer sidekick began to interview Son Goku and the other Z Senshi.

"Um, by any chance, are any of you guys here to compete in the Cell Games?"

"Yeah, but not all of us," answered Goku.

Just then, Mr. Satan ran up behind his ringside announcer and threw him out of the way, ready to confront the Z Senshi.

"I've had enough of you clowns and your tacky parlor tricks!" bellowed the hairy man irritably, "Now get out of here before I get angry!"

The shortest of the Z Senshi, Krillain, took one bemused look at the afroed ape before remarking offhandedly, "Don't bust a vein grease ball."

To say that Mr. Satan was taken back by this remark was an understatement. He just couldn't figure out why everyone he had to deal with today had to question his hegemony. Well maybe Yeung, but everyone else? His mind couldn't fathom it. He was so used to being perceived as an imposing figure that he felt entitled to a high level of respect. Finally, however, he remembered who he was and regained his composure. It was high time he gave these upstarts a demonstration of what they were up against.

"Oh, that's right!" started Hercule, sarcasm virtually dripping in his voice, "I forgot that you ignorant hicks have spent your whole lives playing banjo in the woods. You wouldn't realize that I, Satan, am the 24th Budokai Tenkaichi Champion and as such I am the strongest martial artist in the world."

The Z warriors could only stare blankly at the wooly man as though they were dealing with a complete nut job. One of them, Krillain, shook his head in pity for the champ. Hercule's announcer, however, misinterpreted their silence as amazement.

"And the other challengers are left totally speechless by the one and only Martial Arts Champion of the W-owww!" began the middle aged announcer before falling out of the ring.

"Ok, seeings as you don't know who I am, I'll show you," bragged the Champ. With a façade of daring-do, Mr. Satan leaped from the edge of the ring. When he landed, he grabbed at a large boulder that was sticking out of the ground with his large right hand, and with great effort hefted the stone over his head and brought it down atop his skull with great force. The stone promptly shattered into a million pieces, leaving Hercule feeling proud of himself as he did so.

"Now who rules?"

The announcer began to chant Mr. Satan's name repeatedly as though by habit, however, the display didn't affect the Z Warriors in the least. Finally, Krillain spoke up.

"I say we let the Neanderthal nutsack go first," offered the ex-monk.

"Excuse me."

Everyone who was present turned to look at Cell.

"I'd hate to spoil your fun but it's time," stated the android monster.

Mr. Satan walked to the center of the ring and began to remove his cape. Outside the ring, Yeung had finally managed to get the sand out of his eyes and ears from where he had hit the ground. He was now standing ringside between Hercules press crew and the Z-Senshi.

"I almost don't wanna watch this," muttered Yeung smiling. "At least I got ten million zenni to remember him by."

Just then, Goku chimed in.

"Listen Mr. Satan," warned Goku sternly, "If you fight Cell, you're going to die!"

"Nice try buddy but I've been trying to explain that to him for the last three hours!" remarked Yeung, "It's a lost cause."

"Look Goku," began Krillain, "If he gets killed, we can revive him with the dragon balls."

"I guess you're right," agreed Goku reluctantly. The Super Saiyan warrior raised his hand to give Mr. Satan the go ahead.

"They've finally decided not to interfere," explained the announcer, "And for those of you watching this unfold, you have got to be ecstatic. It's time to meet our champ."

Looking into the camera, Mr. Satan gave his trademark victory sign before throwing his cape to the side.

Suddenly, someone's voice, that of a man's, rang out over a microphone.

"Hold on sensei!"

Everyone present looked up to see a pink helicopter hovering above the ring. Slowly, the helicopter began to descend until it touched down in the center of the ring right next to Cell. Out of the chopper, appeared two muscular men followed closely by a gorgeous woman.

"It looks like we have new challengers to take on Cell!" observed the announcer, "But who are they and where are they from!?"

Outside the ring, Goku and the others looked on with pity at the new batch of challengers.

"It looks like Cell's victim record is going to expand immensely before the day is over," said Tien.

"We are the students of Mister Satan," announced the larger of the two contestants.

"Gaze upon me," spoke the smaller one, "I am Coroni," spoke the smaller of the two fighters. Coroni had long flowing blonde hair and a gymnasts' physique.

"And I am the stupendous power man Paroski!" announced the larger one. This particular contestant stood about eight feet tall and had a head shaped like a muffin. His whole body was built like a tank. Whatever part of him wasn't muscle was covered in a thick layer of fat.

"Could these be the often talked about Satan's apprentices?!" asked the announcer.

By this time Yeung had had enough. He casually strode into the ring and grabbed Mr. Satan by the pants leg, and with one quick yank, brought the large man down to eye level with him.

"How many people do you intend to get killed just to satisfy your own vanity?!" demanded the small warrior.

"Get your mitts off of me you little freeper!" hollered the champ who was visibly nervous. Yeung's grip loosened allowing Hercule to struggle out of the boy's vice-like grip.

"Who's the kid?" asked the redheaded women.

"Yes Mr. Satan, please tell us," implored the announcer.

"Hey, wait one second!" shouted the announcer pointing at Yeung, "You're that runt who's been wiping out Mr. Satan's dojos."

"What?!" yelled Coroni in disbelief. "You beat Master Lee?"

"My reputation precedes me it seems," said Yeung coolly.

"Master Lee was my friend you little asshole," roared Coroni. "After this is over, you and me have business! I promise you that!"

"You won't be able to keep that promise I'm afraid," explained Yeung.

"Why not?!" questioned the muscle bound blonde.

"Because by this time tomorrow, I will likely be dead," explained the little fighter.

"Excuse me."

Everyone in the ring turned around to see Cell standing right beside the helicopter that Hercule's apprentices arrived in. The android thrust his pale hand into the outer plating of the hull and effortlessly heaved the chopper out of the ring and into a distant cliff. The chopper exploded on impact, killing the pilot in a raging fireball.

"Oh My God!" cried Miss Pizza, cupping both sides of her face in a state of sheer panic.

Corroni dropped to his knees in front of Mr. Satan. Visibly shaken by Cell's display of brutality, the man grabbed Mr. Satan's gi before he began to beg the older man, "Master, let me fight first! We worked with that pilot for years. He had a wife and child."

"Hmm…Fine," agreed Mr. Satan reluctantly, "This is now your fight. Besides, it would be embarrassing for me to take on an amateur like Cell."

"Woah Nelly!" crowed the announcer, "You heard it right here folks. We have some new challengers! And this dynamic duo will replace their mentor in round one. What a turn of events!"

"I'd say they're screwed," stated Krillian matter-a-factly.

"And now, let the tournament begin!" spoke the announcer, "Introducing Cell's first challenger, in the white spandex jumpsuit, the lovely Caroni!"

With a look of intense determination, the blonde fighter stepped up to face Cell.

"Don't worry Caroni!" bellowed Mr. Satan from outside the ring. "It was all a trick!"

"I don't know how you did what you did earlier, but I do know that no one's that strong," said Caroni to Cell, "I don't intend to hold back."

"Caroni's speed and agility are second to none," explained Miss Pizza. "I know he can do this. There's no way he can lose."

In the ring, Caroni did some brief warm ups before assuming a fighting stance. The stance itself was similar to that of an ordinary street fighter's.

"For those of you at home, the rules of this tournament are simple," explained the announcer, "You lose if you give up, fall out of the ring, pass out, or….you die!"

"I'm gonna make you suffer!" spouted the blonde fighter, "I'll lead off with the best I've got."

Suddenly, the nimble show fighter leaped high into the air until he was twenty, thirty, forty feet into the sky.

"Wow, would you look at that!" shouted the announcer.

"That's Caroni's best move," said Miss Pizza, "That's the Beautiful Flying Rose Attack.

"He can jump pretty high for a weakling," stated Yeung.

As Caroni reached the climax of his ascent, he crossed his arms and set himself up for the second part of his move. Soon, he began to fall towards his target Cell.

Seeing that his _opponent _was getting close, Cell absentmindedly raised one hand, and just as Caroni was about to hit, Cell slapped his hapless competition so hard that he skid right out of the ring.

On Mr. Satan's side of the ring, everyone present went wide-eyed at the unexpected turn of events.

"What the heck just happened there?!" asked the announcer looking to Mr. Satan.

"I don't know," stammered the champ nervously, "I guess Cell's a little stronger than we thought. No worry though. Cell probably used all that he had to do that."

Meanwhile, on the Z fighter's end of the ring…

"I guess even Cell can feel sorry for some people," stated Piccolo.

"Do you think they get it now?" asked Yamacha.

"Probably not," answered Trunks sarcastically.

Back on Mr. Satan's side, Paroski was lumbering into the ring. The giant man had murder written all over his face as he removed his heavy decorative helmet. As he prepared for his fight, Mrs. Pizza tended Caroni's scraps and bruises outside the ring.

"What happened in there?" asked the bodacious babe manager.

"I don't know," said Caroni, "One minute I was coming down on top of him and the next, I woke up outside the ring with you guys. It all happened so quickly."

"Don't worry," assured Mr. Satan, "Piroski is the strongest thing in the world after me. He'll crush that giant cockroach."

Inside the ring, Piroski began to rev up for his ultimate assassination move: the Megaton Bull Crusher. He slowly began to rotate/flail his arms while fully extended until they reached a moderately high velocity. Then, he began to run at Cell full speed.

"This is for comrade Caroni!" bellowed the rotund brawler as he closed in on the evil Cell.

Just as Piroski was about to connect, Cell reached out and seized the chunky fighter by the throat, stopping him in his tracks. The force of the impact, however, impaled Piroski's neck on Cell's fingers. Fortunately, Cell hit nothing vital.

Cell smiled coldly at Piroski like a rapist would at a young girl. This scared Piroski out of his whits and he tried desperately to pull himself off the androids jagged fingernails. He yanked every which way he could only to realize that Cell had locked his icy grip around his windpipe. With no effort at all, Cell lifted the large man off the ring floor by his throat and hurled Piroski from the ring as though he were a sack of horse manure.

"Great Goodness!" shouted the announcer.

"That's impossible!" said Miss Pizza in disbelief.

"Now do you see what I mean?" asked Yeung with a twinge of urgency in his voice.

"All this means is that I've got to save the day," retorted Mr. Satan. Mr. Satan stepped into the ring dead set on showing the world his stuff. Yeung shook his head in pity at the older man.

"Alright, everybody!" spoke the announcer, "It's time for Earth's one and only hope, Mr. Satan, to show us his stuff! Following the consecutive and bloody defeats of his two prized pupils, Caroni and Piroski, Mr. Satan now stands before Cell, ready to reclaim the honor of his dojo.

Meanwhile, the announcer continued to blare his stuff. "In the next few minutes, the fate of the world will be decided between the vicious Cell and the undisputed martial arts champion of the world, Mr. Satan!"

"Alright, come on big guy!" shouted Mr. Satan who had settled into his own preferred stance, "Let's go!"

Cell simply stood there and yawned out of boredom. This rubbed the champ the wrong way, goading him to run headlong into the android. Cell, however, continued to stand there and did nothing. With a loud bellow, Mr. Satan performed a flying kung fu kick.

"Wow, it looks like Hercule went straight for his patented dynamite kick!" hollered the ecstatic announcer.

The attack however, simply grazed off Cell's seemingly indestructible hide and Mr. Satan went crashing to the ring floor and rolled uncontrollably out of the ring.

With a heavy heart, Hercule's announcer sidekick mournfully stated, "Mr. Satan has landed outside the ring. Our hero has lost the battle."

"So," began Cell, "Let's get the tournament underway. I tire of mediocre fights. Who will be first? Will it be Goku to start things off?"

"Hell no!"

Cell and everyone present turned to see that Yeung was already in the ring. The boy cracked his knuckles in anticipation for his long awaited battle.

Author's Note: Looking back, I can say without a doubt that the third chapter of this fan fiction looked like crap. The chapters are going to get better from here on out though so bear with me readers. Please review.

Power Levels:

Master Rolo Yeung: 119

Caroni: 42

Paroski: 39

Hercule Satan: 50

Perfect Cell: Over 1 billion(suppressed)


	8. Standing on the Edge of Tomarrow

Chapter 8: Standing on the Edge of Tomarrow

Chapter 8: Standing on the Edge of Tomarrow

Disclaimer: I wish I did own Dragonball and DragonBallZ, but alas, I do not. That honor belongs to Toei Animation and Akira Toryama.

"Where are you going dad?" asked Gohan.

"I'm just going to speak with that kid," answered Goku.

"Hey little guy," greeted Goku, "So, what are you doing here?"

"My business is my own," responded Yeung with a sneer.

"I can guess," said Goku. The Saiyan warrior rested his palm on Yeung's head and began to scan the boy's memories. When it was all over, Goku removed his hand and turned to leave the ring.

"What did you just do?" asked Yeung.

"Nothing much," stated Goku. "I just wanted to get a feel for what kind of person you are."

"Why?" asked Yeung irritably.

Goku looked back at the boy with a kindly expression on his face before saying, "I'm curious as to who trained you."

"I was trained by former World Martial Arts Champion, King Choppoa," Yeung proudly said..

"Could you please just fight me already?" asked Cell irritably, "I want to be done with this duck shooting game."

"You're going to pay for treating people this way!" declared Yeung before crouching into his fighting stance, this one being reminiscent of Brazilian Jujitsu.

Cell simply shook his head in remorse at the boy. "If I had a zenni for every time I've heard that one…,"

"Well, I guess it's time for you to put your money where your mouth is," chided the teen terror.

"Enough, it's time to make a believer out of you runt!" shouted the android, "I will defeat you without even using ki."

"Ki!" At the mention of that word, Yeung cocked an eyebrow.

"Now, come at me," commanded Cell, "Oh, and don't worry. I'll go easy on you for your sake. No sense in sullying my hands on a mere human."

Outside the arena, Hercule had managed to stagger back to his side of the ring and was rejoined by both his PR crew and Miss Pizza.

"Mr. Satan, what the heck happened in there?" asked the speckled announcer.

"My foot just slipped. That's all!"

"It looked as though your finishing move grazed right off of him," remarked Miss Pizza.

"Are you calling me a liar?" asked the champ.

"Ummm… no," answered the redhead nervously. "Anyway, that kid's about to fight."

Hercule and the others looked into the ring and saw Yeung standing before the maniacal terror that was Cell.

The tension surrounding Yeung looked so thick that one could cut through it with a knife. Finally, when Yeung couldn't contain himself any longer, he burst forward in a stint of suprahuman speed that allowed him to bridge the distance between him and his opponent in mere seconds. Upon reaching Cell, Yeung let into his torso with a powerful uppercut.

….Or at least it seemed powerful until he realized that his attack didn't even hobble his bioorganic adversary.

"Uh-oh…," muttered the young fighter. Soon, he felt a strange wall of air pushing against him, and he began to slide slowly toward the edge of the ring.

"_What is this," _wondered Yeung desperately.

Suddenly, however, just as the wall of compressed air started, it stopped. Afterwards, all that could be heard was Cell's horrendous laugh.

Yeung eyed the olive colored being coldly before asking, "What did you just do?"

"I just gave you a quick lesson in Ki 101," remarked Cell, his voice carrying the razor edge of arrogance.

"So you're saying that if you wanted to, you could make it where I wouldn't even be able to get close to you," quipped the youth.

"Oh, but don't worry," assured Cell, "I like to play with my prey before I kill it."

"Just like you did the people of Gingertown?!" demanded Yeung.

"Oh so that's where you're from!" said Cell in a hint of surprise. "And here I thought I killed them all. Well, I can't let a job go unfinished now can I?"

Yeung took a moment to spit before launching himself forward for another go. He barreled into Cell with a series of palm strikes and ridge hands, yet despite his best efforts, he was still unable to damage Cell. If anything, they only served to reopen wounds he had suffered yesterday at the hands of Hard Copper.

Finally, he wound up for powerful jab to Cell's head and just as the blow was about to strike, Cell seemed to vanish into thin air.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You're too slow."

Quickly, Yeung turned to see that Cell had completely outflanked him. Before he could act, however, Cell slapped Yeung to the floor, creating a shallow dent in the sandstone upon impact.

"Oh my!" shouted the announcer, "It seems that Cell is giving our little challenger a run for his money. What's the scrawny fella gonna do now?"

On the Z-fighter's side, Goku and friends looked on with some degree of interest.

"I'll give that kid credit," started Tien, "He's stronger than I was at his age."

"I don't think I even started training till I was at least four years older so the same holds true for me," commented Yamacha.

"The kid has got to be at least as strong as Master Roshi," said Krillain.

"I'd like to know how he got that strong," spoke Goku, "The strength of the teacher often times reflects the strength of the student. It's no secret that King Choppa was a strong fighter in his time but even he barely cleared the 'wall of humanity.' There's just something strange about that boy."

"Hmm… I know what you mean," mussed Piccolo, "I haven't got this sort of feeling about another person since I started training Gohan back in the day."

Back in the ring, Yeung forced himself off the floor. His vision was cloudy and the entire right side of his face looked as though it were simply hanging onto the skull. Blood was gushing from every orifice his head had to offer and his left eye began to puff out like a biscuit.

"Dammit Kid! Get outta there!" hollered Mr. Satan.

"Dad, you've got to do something!" yelled Gohan.

"Hold it Gohan!" ordered Goku, "This is what that kid wants! He needs this!"

Yeung managed to get to his feet which turned out to be no small miracle in itself. He took one look around before a grotesque smile began to inch its' way across the left side of his face. Then, he began to laugh. Yes, that's right! He laughed!

"What do you find so amusing you little worm?" asked Cell.

Yeung seemed lost in himself as he began to walk slowly towards the corner of the ring. Upon reaching one of the spires that christened the four corners of the foundation, Yeung squatted down and grabbed the massive structure by its' base. Slowly, the stone megalith started to rise out of the ground, and a pressure crater began to form under the tiny fighter due to the sheer forces involved.

Outside the ring, Hercule and the others on their side watched on with amazement at this feat of seemingly impossible strength.

"Keep it rolling," the announcer commanded his faithful camera guy.

"I'm running out of tape."

"T-there's n-no way!" stuttered Piroski.

"Inconceivable," blurted Caroni.

"Just what do you intend to do with that?" asked Cell cocking an eyebrow.

"This!" Spreading his feet wide, Yeung drew the massive pillar back the way one would a baseball bat. Then, with almost untold levels of grit, Yeung swung the gigantic stone architecture. Bone and sinuous snapped and tore as the boy's torso twisted. The bones in his feet popped as the ring floor gave way to his body's horrendous might. The spire continued to arc its' course right into Cell until finally, the huge stone spire shattered right across Cell's temple. Unfortunately, Cell wasn't affected by this in the least. The green android just stood there unimpressed by the teen fighter's best efforts.

However, Yeung wasn't finished. He still wielded half of the spire like a giant club. Using everything he had left, the small warrior hefted what was left of the pillar over his head and brought it down squarely atop Cell's skull.

Once again, however, this tactic proved to be useless against Cell. As opposed to damaging Cell, the spire molded around his upper torso all the way down to his chest plate. Reaching up, Cell wrapped his arms around the cylindrical stone structure and applied a slight pressure. The granite crumbled easily around the bio-freak as though he had squeezed paper mashie.

"There's just no way!" gasped Yeung. In the process of pulling off that high risk maneuver with the spire, Yeung had broken most of his ribs, ruptured a disk, lacerated every muscle in his back and midsection, and every wound he had bandaged earlier had been reopened. At this point, it took everything he had just to stand up.

"Wow! Simply Amazing!" shouted the announcer from outside the arena, "Ladies and gentlemen, one is left to wonder just where a kid that size gets his power from. Every blow he unleashes has been nothing short of dynamite! Yet, Cell still stands completely unfazed by our little hero's mind-blowing assault! Now, we turn to our champion, Mr. Satan, for expert commentary on this heated battle! Mr. Satan?"

"Huh?!" said the champ dumbly.

"Your opinion on the fight?" repeated the announcer.

"I don't comment on assholes."

"You do realize that you can't say 'asshole' on live television?" warned the announcer.

"You're not the one who had his business suffer loses in the millions," retorted Hercule sarcastically.

"Sorry for living," returned the speckled announcer with equal sarcasm. The two of them turned their attention back to the ring.

"If you two haven't noticed, that kid's about to collapse!" said Miss Pizza exasperated.

"Before I finish you, I want you to know one thing boy," stated Cell.

"cough What? That you're a sick freak! A little late for that isn't it?"

"No," corrected the android, "I simply wanted to tell you that once I'm through killing all the fighters here I intend to hunt down every living person on this planet one by one."

"If you can kill me so easily, why are you just toying with me?" asked Yeung.

"It's that look in your eye," stated Cell bluntly. "Every time I see it, it reminds me of the look I see in the one I'm programmed to kill. I can't let you die before I break your spirit."

"So this tournament is like some vindication of who you are?"

"That's part of it," replied Cell.

"Well isn't that nice?" said the teen off-handedly.

"Isn't it?" replied Cell. Just then, Cell grabbed Yeung by the throat, and lifted the boy right off the ground.

Yeung tried his best to squirm out of the hybridized monster's iron grip but to no avail. As the teen fighter began to black out, his life began to flash before his eyes.

'_This can't be happening! Dammit! It wasn't supposed to end like this! I have so much work left to do. This can't be…..'_

Cell continued to slowly apply pressure to the kid's throat, relishing the intense agony of his latest victim. All of a sudden, Cell noticed a dim ember that began to emanate from all over Yeung's body.

'_What's this?'_ wondered the android, _'It seems I've slightly underestimated this little brat. His ki presence is increasing drastically."_

"Do you feel that?!" asked Krillain.

"Yeah, that kid's inner strength is growing," spoke Tien.

"It's his body's hidden powers," stated Piccolo out of the blue.

"Hidden powers?" repeated Krillain, "You mean like the strength that Guru unlocked from inside me and Gohan back on old Namek?"

"Yes, it seems his body is unconsciously tapping into his innate power," explained Piccolo, "Most likely in response to a crisis."

"Still," spoke Vegeta, "Him fighting Cell is like Raditz fighting Freiza. Even with this awakening, the boy is overwhelmingly outmatched."

"Shouldn't we do something to help him?" asked Krillain, "Goku?"

"Guys, wait!" shouted Goku. "Look there! Something's happening!"

The dim glow around Yeung began to coalesce further until Yeung's entire body was shrouded in a deep blood crimson energy flare. Subconsciously, the teen fighter reached up and made a grab for Cell's wrists. Cell released Yeung and stepped back a bit.

"You wanna roll with the big boys?" asked Cell. "Fine then! Let's find out whether this power is the real thing!"

Yeung's untrained power continued to billow up around his morbidly injured form. Suddenly, all that was him began to come to the fore as his latent energies focused unto his calloused right hand. Then, as if by instinct due to untold hours of training, he balled his hand into a fist and took a wide swing at Cell. Without difficulty, Cell sidestepped the punch, and the energy that was contained within shot out like a demonic fireball.

The wave of power continued to travel on a trajectory right into the distant mountains until finally it connected with a distant peak. Clouds parted high in the sky as the ethereal glow reflected off the upper atmosphere. This seemed to tint all the heavens with a dark crimson that seemed almost ecclesiastical in nature. Finally, the sound of the intense blast reverberated across all the land as a massive shockwave spread out from the epicenter of the explosion. Behind the shockwave came tidel waves of fire-like, red ethereal that rained down upon the entire desert.

"Holy crap!" yelled Yamacha, "Such power!"

"It's like he just tapped into a bottomless well!" stated Tien.

"Amazing!" shouted the announcer, "How can our challenger possibly be doing this, and what is this strange otherworldly force that seems to be turning the sky red?"

"I think I'll pass on fighting the kid!" said Caroni nervously.

"Good call!" agreed Piroski.

"There's no way this can possibly be real!" shouted Hercule.

When the crimson hue from the blast finally receded, the far off mountain range looked as if a hydrogen bomb had been detonated right on top of it. Where once stood a mighty peak now resided a deep blast crater that resembled a shield volcano. Far above the once pristine summits loomed an ominous mushroom cloud that seemed to stretch on forever.

"F-for those of you at home who are not officially f-freaked out, all I have to say is maybe you should have this job!" stammered the ringside announcer.

"It's over for him," stated Goku.

"Huh?!"

"The boy has nothing left to give," said Piccolo, "Drawing out his hidden powers completely drained him. It's all over now."

"Please dad!" pleaded Gohan shaking his father's arm, "Stop this…"

"Goku, if you're gonna do a rescue, you had better do it now," warned Krillain.

Meanwhile, inside the ring, Yeung had collapsed face first onto the floor. Cell strode up to boy's fallen form and with one hand, reached down, and yanked the youth right off the tiled surface by his scalp. He brought his hapless competition up a little further before laying into the boy as if he were a punching bag.

"As…I...said...before!" mouthed Cell in between strikes, "I…like…to play…with my…prey…before killing it!"

"Oh my God!" cried the announcer, "Please, Mr. Satan! Do something!"

"He's going to kill him!" shouted Miss Pizza.

"You're right!" said Mr. Satan in the most macho tone he could muster, "I'm going in!"

Back in the ring, just as Cell was preparing to send Yeung on his way with one final strike, he felt someone grab his wrist in mid punch. He turned to see that it was Goku who had come to the rescue of the kid.

"Let it be, Cell," warned the Super Saiyan fighter. "Your fight is with me now."

Cell casually dropped the unconscious Yeung to the floor before replying in kind, "Finally."

Goku reached down to pick up Yeung, but before he could grab him, Cell shot an intense death ray through the boy's lower torso. Goku gasped in shock at Cell's unnecessary display of brutality. A puddle of blood and urine began to well up around Yeung as the boy began to convulse in agony.

"Hey! Why'd you do that?!" shouted Miss Pizza from outside the ring.

"That was foul play at its worst!" yelled the announcer.

"As I said before," started Cell, "You leave unconscious only _if _I let you leave."

"Errr…You Bastard!" shouted Goku. The Saiyan warrior crouched down to lift Yeung's battered head.

"Krillain! Catch!" Goku tossed Yeung out of the ring and into Krillain's arms. Krillain lay Yeung down on the ground and cobbled together some rocks to keep the boy's head elevated.

A short while later, Yeung began to slowly come to. His head throbbed something fierce and he had a difficult time clearing his vision. When the teen fighter tried to sit up, something occurred to him…

"My injuries!" said the boy, "They're gone. It…it's a miracle!"

Yeung looked around to see that the ring had vanished. In it's place was a scene that could easily be mistook for the surface of the moon. Where once lay the foundation of the ring now rested deep craters some of which seemed charred black.

Just then, something heavy crashed down right next to him nearly causing Yeung to jump out of his skin. It turned out to be one of the strange fighters from before; the midget bald one to be exact.

Upon closer examination of the fighter, Krillain's body, Yeung bore witness to numerous bruises and lacerations that covered every visible part of the man's arms and face. In addition to the visible injuries that the monk had sustained, one of his legs were twisted at an unnatural angle.

"What or who did this?" was the only thing Yeung could ask. His question however fell on death ears for the ex-monk Krillain lay unconscious.

The next thing he knew, Yeung felt something small and dense land right on top of him. Looking over his shoulder from the ground, he saw a tiny blue monster resembling a miniature Cell standing on top of him. The creature shrieked something terrible as it began to punch Yeung in the back of the head.

After twenty seconds of intense beatings at the behest of this 'Cell Jr.,' Yeung tried desperately to shake the little gremlin off. He threw his shoulder back repeatedly in an attempt to backhand the evil little devil.

"Err..Get away!" shouted the frustrated youth.

In response to Yeung's utterly useless attempt at resistance, the Cell Jr. leaped off of the teen fighter and began to use Yeung as a speed bag. Every blow that the croaking little monster landed hit pay-dirt as Yeung was repeatedly sent sprawling into the rocky desert floor.

Blood gushed from Yeung's right ear like a sprinkler as Yeung disembedded himself from the granite surface of a rocky flat. He had barely made it to a sitting position before the Cell Jr. was once again on him.

"What is this thing?!" wondered the teen fighter.

The teen titan attempted to raise his fists and made one last desperate stand against this turquoise aberration. He brought his arms close to his body and tried his best to deflect a series of powerful kicks that the Cell Jr. had launched at his midsection. The kicks themselves easily broke through the boy's guard and did massive damage to Yeung's torso. Whelps and bluish bruises began to rise on the boy's arms and torso.

Finally, the Cell Jr. leaped into Yeung and delivered a powerful swinging back kick to the boy's right arm. All that could be heard was a blood wrenching 'crunch' as the strike snapped Yeung's forearm like a twig. Yeung tried to scream but the creature fish hooked his cheek and once more threw him across the desert floor.

The boy continued to skid across the ground until his broken form was planted face-first into a rock face. He slinked to the ground like a deflated balloon and simply laid there, his body in a state of shock. The last thing he saw before passing out yet again was the spiky haired blond kid, he had seen before who had arrived at the Cell Games with the group of strange airborne fighters. Finally, there was darkness.

A short while later, several of the Z-warriors had gathered in the aftermath of their last stand against Cell. Among them was Yamacha who carried an unconscious Son Gohan in his arms. Beside him stood his friends and allies. The triclops, Tien carried the corps of a Mr. Trunks Briefs, and Krillain was sitting down cradling an unconscious Android 18. Further back behind them stood Piccolo who was chatting with Vegeta.

"Wow, I can't believe it!" remarked Yamacha, "It's finally over."

"Yeah, we're finally safe again," declared Krillain.

"Hmm.. safe," mused Tien quietly, "God, how long has it been since we've heard that word?"

"Ummhmm," agreed Yamacha, "I know. Can you believe it? Gohan actually did it!"

"We all did Yamacha," said Piccolo. "We honored Goku's sacrifice."

"Goku," spoke Krillain softly, "He's only been gone for ten minutes and the world already seems a whole lot emptier."

"I wish there was something we could do to change this?!" shook Yamacha, "It isn't right! We can't even wish Goku back to life!"

"We'd better get Gohan and Trunks back to the lookout," said Tien. "Dende should fix them right up."

"Yeah!" exclaimed Krillain. Krillain stretched a little as he stood up. He bent over and lifted Android Eighteen into his arms. Suddenly, something lying in the distance caught his attention. Out in the distance was an arm was protruding out from under a pile of rubble and sand.

"Guys, over there," shouted Krillain pointing to the downed body. The rest of the Z-warriors followed his finger to the pile of rubble.

"It's that boy from before," stated Tien. Tien sat Trunks down and rushed over to the pile of rocks. Crouching down, he began to dig frantically through the mess of debris until the down person in question was unearthed.

"It feels as though he's still alive," said Yamacha.

"Give him to me," ordered Piccolo. The tall Namek scooped the injured youth into his arms and began to fly off.

"Well, come on guys!" prodded Yamacha following suite, the others not far behind.

The only one to stay behind was Vegeta. The Saiyan prince stood there and quietly thought about all that had happened that day. His mind was particularly fixated on the one event that tugged at him the most.

"Kakoratt.. " muttered the Sayian warrior, "Why? What reason do I have to live now that you're gone? Will we never get to settle things?"

Hours later, high above the Earth on Dende's lookout, the Z-warriors began to tie up loose ends. Much death and destruction had been afflicted upon the Earth's people by the fierce Cell, and in many ways, the Z warriors felt as if they themselves had a hand in what Cell had done.

"Take it slow Gohan," cautioned Earth's newly appointed Kami, Dende. Before lay Earth's savior as well as its strongest child progeny and demi-Saiyan, Son Gohan. Son Gohan had sustained a serious injury to his left arm in the act of saving the Sayian warrior Vegeta from Cell's monstrous wrath.

"Dende…," uttered the half-breed youth, setting up.

"It's alright Gohan," assured the short green guardian, "You're healed now."

"Hey, Dende!" hollered Krillain, "We could use a little of that healing power over here!"

"Krillain!" shouted Yamacha, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"She's not all that bad Yamacha," said Krillain gesturing to the downed Android 18, "She can't help what Dr. Gero did to her. Dende, do your stuff!"

Earth's God reached down and summoned his incredible regenerative healing prowess. After a period of about ten seconds, his subjects' eyes fluttered open.

"W-Where am I?" asked the stupored blonde cyborg.

"Back away from her Dende!" warned Yamacha who had already lowered himself into a fighting stance. Android Eighteen took on look at all of them before rushing off the sanctuary.

"Hey! Where ya goin?" yelled Krillain. "I hope she comes back."

"Forget about her Krillain!" said Tien, "We've got other concerns to worry about."

"It's time to call upon the dragon," stated Piccolo.

"Yeah!" cried Gohan, "Let's bring Trunks and all the other innocents that Cell killed back to life. You ready Dende?"

"Right!" nodded the Namek boy. Dende turned to the seven magic orbs known as the dragonballs and began to call forth the mighty Shenron. "Eternal Dragon. By your name I summon you!"

The sky promptly became dark and foreboding, and great winds began to churn the air into a tumultuous turmoil. Suddenly, radical lightning began to grace the sky until finally, a bolt of energy struck the seven magical relics giving rise to a golden mass of light. The mass spiraled on in a seemingly forever fashion until with a flash, the majestic Eternal Dragon emerged from the electric maelstrom.

Everyone present stared on with aw at the ecclesiastical reptile that now hovered above the lookout. Most of them present had seen the Eternal Dragon before. Nevertheless, the sight of the great creature always commanded some form of reverence from the Z warriors.

"I am the Eternal Dragon," boomed the giant being. "Make your wishes now and it will be so granted."

"So, who's going to make the wish?" asked Krillain.

"You do it Krillain," said Tien, "You know what to say."

"Alright!" The ex-monk turned back to the mythical beast before continuing.

"Eternal Dragon!" shouted the bald fighter, "Please return those who were killed by Dr. Gero and his creations back to this physical plain!"

"It shall be done!" stated the dragon. Its eyes glowed crimson for but a brief moment before the incantation was over. Everyone gave a jubilant cheer.

"Trunks is waking up!" cried Krillain.

Slowly but surely, the boy from the future sat up. The half-Saiyan warrior took a brief moment to look around before Yamacha spoke up.

"Looking good buddy," snickered the human fighter.

"What happened?" asked the fuisha-haired teen.

"Cell happened!" declared Krillain, "You should have seen it. When Vegeta saw you die, he went wild. He threw everything he had at Cell. It was incredible!"

Father did that!" said Trunks fairly surprised. Before anyone else could say anything, however the Eternal Dragon's thundering voice cut in…

"Make you second wish already!" ordered the dragon.

"Oh wow! I forgot about the second wish," said Krillain.

"What should we wish for?" wondered Gohan aloud.

"We could use the last wish to go to Namek," said Krillain, "Once there we could ask Porunga to revive Goku."

"Alright!" cheered Gohan, "It's off to Namek we go."

Suddenly, out of the blue, a familiar voice chimed in.

"_Hey, wait! Don't I get a say in this?"_

"Daddy!?" spoke Gohan.

"Goku!" shouted all present.

"_Look, I've been thinking about some things. Looking back, I've come to terms with something that has recurred over and over throughout my life." _Goku paused momentarily before continueing, "_Over the years, almost every adversary that has threatened Earth has done so because of me. Think about it! Raditz, Vegeta, Garlic, Freiza and now Cell!"_

"Uhh…, Goku I'm not sure I like where this is leading," said Krillain.

"_I've come to the decision that maybe it's best that this time I stay gone."_

"But Daddy!" cried Gohan, "What about mom and me?"

"_You'll do fine Gohan!" _said his father assuringly_. "The Earth has you now. You've proven yourself capable to the end. I'm proud of you son."_

"What will you do Goku?" asked Krillain.

"_I'm going to explore this new world. There's an adventure to be had and I don't wanna miss it for the world! Besides, from what I've seen, there's a whole new generation of heroes coming up. The planet is in good hands."_

"A whole new generation?!" spoke Tien dumbfoundedly.

"_Goodbye everyone," _said the Saiyan warrior finally. _"I love you all."_

"Goodbye Daddy!" cried Gohan, "I'll miss you!"

"Bye Goku!" shouted everyone else present.

"Well, what do we do with the second wish?" asked Tien.

"I've got it!" stated Yamacha, "Let's ask the dragon for money. I couldn't hurt to make ourselves rich could it?"

The other Z-senshi stared at their comrade as if he had a screw loose. Finally, it was Krillain who broke the silence…

"I know what to wish for," said the ex-monk before turning to the Eternal Dragon. "Can you restore the androids to their original human selves?"

The dragon hovered silently before responding. "That wish cannot be granted."

"What?" half-shouted Krillain., "Can you at least remove the bombs that were placed inside of them?"

"That I can do," answered the dragon. With a crimson flash of the giant reptile's eyes, the deed was done.

"Alright!" shouted Krillain.

"Man Krillain," started Yamacha, "You sure do have the hots for that girl!"

"I just thought that her and that other android made a very cute couple is all," said Krillain half-heartedly, "At least I can bring some happiness to her."

Suddenly, from out of nowhere a commanding voice, that of a women's, boomed.

"You fool! Android Seventeen is my twin brother you idiot," shouted Android Eighteen from a far.

"Brother!?" said Yamacha silently, "Did you hear that Krillain? You may still have a chance!"

"Oh, I get it!" roared Eighteen, "Big strong man rescues me and now I'm expected to just go waltzing to him. Well, think again buddy!"

Needless to say, Krillain felt down struck with the direction this was going.

"Still," continued the cyborg, "What you did was very nice. Thank you." And with that the bionic woman leaped over the side of the lookout and sped off in the distance.

"She's gone…," muttered the sorrowed monk.

"For what it's worth Krillain, I think that girl really digs you!" said Yamacha.

"Really!? Do you really think so?"

"Sure," replied Yamacha, "In fact, I'm dead certain!"

"That's right," spoke a sarcastic yet unfamiliar voice, "Don't mind me. Eventually someone's going to see me lying here."

All those present on the lookout turned their attention to the body of the young boy they had found following their climactic battle with Cell.

"Oh gosh! I'm sorry!" cried Dende, "We completely forgot about you! I'll have you fixed up in a jiffy."

"Take your time," said Yeung in a sarcastic tone. "It's only a shattered spine and multiple lacerations! No, don't mind me! Please continue with what you were doing."

"Please forgive me," begged the little guardian. Dende bent down beside Yeung and began to work on the boys' injuries. Within seconds, the teen fighter was back on his feet.

"Hey, I recognize you now!" said Tien, "You're that kid that fought Cell."

"Naw duh!" mouthed Yeung, once again with the sarcasm.

"Well, you're not exactly easy to recognize when your face has been rearranged," retorted the triclops, "Those were some pretty good moves you used back there. What's your name kid?"

"Rolo Yeung,"

Power Levels:

Rolo Yeung: 119

Rolo Yeung( hidden powers surfacing) estimated 10,000

Perfect Cell: Around 4,000,000,000

Super Saiyan 2 Gohan: Estimated 10,000,000,000

Tien Shenhan: 8.5 million

Krillain Chestnut: 4 million

Super Saiyan, Son Goku: 1.5 Billion Max

Yamacha: 2 million

Piccolo Daimoa: Around 400 million

Super Saiyan Vegeta: Around 750 million

Super Saiyan Trunks: Around 900 million

Cell Jr.: Depends on which Z-warrior they were made to fight individually.


	9. One Foot Out the Door

Chapter 9: One Foot Out the Door

Chapter 9: One Foot Out the Door

"Err..Look! All I'm asking is for one of you guys to train me!" insisted Yeung. For the past thirty minutes, Yeung had been trying his best to coax one of the Z-warriors to take him under their wing as an apprentice. Needless to say, he wasn't having much luck.

Feeling sympathy for the little warrior, Krillain turned to the others. "So, what do you guys think? Who wants to baby sit the runt?"

"Not me!" said Yamacha adamantly. "I've been training now for many years. This is the first time in a long time that I've had the opportunity to just sit back and enjoy life."

"I've always been a student," said Gohan. "I wouldn't know how to go about being a sensei."

"I have some loose ends to tie up with my old girlfriend Launch," explained Tien, "Who knows how long that might take. I've been running from old problems for years."

Krillain put his hand to his chin and thought for a moment before deciding, "Well, I'm not sure Master Roshi even wants anymore students. That and we have too many people living at the kami house as it is."

"I don't know what to say to ya kiddo," said Krillain in a sympathetic tone, "I guess you're just outta luck. I'm sorry but we can't just teach anyone our arts. Maybe if you had come along ten years ago…"

Yeung looked down beaten for a moment before asking again, "Isn't there anyone who can help me?"

A minute or so passed before anyone piped in. Finally…

"Well, there is my Grandpa," said Gohan, "But he's a very important statesman, a king no less, so he's out of the question."

"I've got it!"

Everyone present turned to Tien. Tien stepped up to Yeung and bent down till he was eye level with the little runt.

"Kid," started Tien, "This isn't the best option I have for you, but it's better than nothing."

"Really?! What is it?" asked an ecstatic Yeung.

"I could always take you to the school of thought I was reared up in," said the large triclops.

"What are you talking about Tien?" asked Yamacha.

Turning to his comrade with a big grin plastered on his face, Tien said only one word. "Tsurusinnin."

"What?! Did one of those Cell Jrs. knock your brains out, Tien?" At this point, Krillain and Yamacha couldn't believe what they were hearing.

"You do remember what the Crane Hermit did to you and Choatzu," remarked Yamacha. "They're false masters. They'll just take the kid and fill his head with lies!"

"I'm afraid he's right Tien," said Krillain in agreeance with his fellow student, "The Crane School is bad news. Considering how badly they've been discredited, I'm not even sure your old sensei is even around anymore.

"Still, we don't have many current options open to us," responded Tien. Tien walked up to his fellow human fighters and ushered them behind a pillar just out of hearing distance.

"Listen guys," started the three-eyed warrior, "This kid's the real thing. We can't just pass up this opportunity."

"We understand Tien," said Yamacha assuringly.

"No, I'm afraid you don't," retorted Tien. "Neither of you do! Look at us. With Goku gone, that only leaves seven of us in case something comes up. I'm starting to think that there was another reason for Goku deciding not to come back."

"Another reason?" repeated Krillain, "Like what?"

"I believe that Goku is giving us a chance to start over with not just a clean slate, but a better slate," answered Tien, "Look guys, we're not getting any younger, and we can't just expect Gohan or Vegeta to bail us out all the time. They're not always going to be there. Theycan't be! It's not that I don't have faith in their abilities. It's just that Goku has given us a great gift, and that gift is true world peace. That's his legacy, and it's important that we take that legacy and make it better than what it was when Goku left it."

"Listen guys, Goku is our friend! How's it going to look if some other evil ki user comes along and destroys us in Goku's absence? How will it reflect on us if Goku is left turning in his grave?"

Pausing for a moment, Tien looked straight into the eyes of his comrades before continuing. "There's one more thing. Master Roshi once said to me that it was now my responsibility to provide a litmus test to the next generation! He said 'The world could always use a few new heroes.' We need this to be a vindication of his guiding principles, and I'm going to use this opportunity to create more leadership instead of more followers."

Walking away from his fellow warriors, Tien stopped only long enough to say one last thing.

"I'll be by later to pick up Choatzu. Guys, it's been swell and all but farewell. We'll stay in touch."

"Bye Tien," said Krillain waving.

Tien rounded the corner and approached Yeung with a confident smile.

"Well boy, I've got good news," said Tien.

"That you'll train me?!" responded Yeung enthusiastically.

"No, but I know someone who might," said Tien. "Hop on!"

"Huh?"

"Hop on my back," commanded Tien, "I can fly. We're leaving right now. There's someone we need to find."

"_OK_…," Yeung climbed onto the bulky triclops' muscled back and wrapped his arms around Tiens' neck."

"Now hold on tight," commanded Tien. "Cause here we GOOOO!"

And with a loud shout, the two of them were on their way. Once in the air, Tien looked back to see how his little companion was handling the ride.

"How you holding up back there?"

"Do you have to ask?" shouted Yeung. "Hey, Listen! There's somewhere I need to go first!"

"Alright, where?!" asked Tien.

"I need to stop by my apartment in Gingertown real quick!" shouted Yeung.

"Gingertown… Alright, here we go!" With that the two of them soared off to their new destination, Tien's energy aura leaving a white vapor trail as they went.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Little over an hour later, Tien and Yeung touched down in the parking lot of 'the projects' of inner city Gingertown. There didn't seem to be much structural damage to the buildings in the surrounding area aside from the occasional wall that had been demolished in the wake of Cell's earlier massacres, and because of the dragon balls, a great majority of those killed by Cell were resurrected. As such, there were some pedestrians who were out and walking about.

"So this is the place huh?" asked Tien who seemed somewhat mortified at what he saw before him.

"Yeah," said Yeung with a sigh, "This is home sweet home."

"Mind telling me what that is?" asked Tien, pointing at a bunch of dead bodies that were piled up on Yeung's front door.

"That Tien, is a pile of dead ninjas," explained Yeung. "I've dubbed it 'Brokeback Mountain.' I've been adding to it for about three months now."

Yeung absentmindedly walked up to the pile of slain hit men and kicked one of the cadavers at the base of the mound. "Pesky Ninjas."

"May I inquire as to why there is a pile of dead assassins on your front lawn?"

"Let's just say that I had a problem with the local Yakuza Boss and he's been pestering me with yes-men ever since," answered Yeung candidly.

Tien would of let it go at that had it not been for him seeing the single dead police officer behind the pile.

"Hey, wait a minute!" ordered Tien, "How can you explain the dead cop?"

"The Yakuza bribed him to off me," responded Yeung.

"Oh, well that makes since I guess," said Tien unconvinced.

When they finally reached the front door, they found a bunch of papers pinned to the head of the doorframe. Yeung yanked down each paper one by one and skimmed through them.

"Hmm…another court summons in response to robbing the liquor store I see," Yeung continued to read on.

"The rent's four months over due. Damned landlady! I told her never to show her face around here again! OH! And another death threat! Wow! Ain't I special? That makes twenty three in two months."

"God kid!" gaped Tien, "Where were your parents when all this was happening?"

"I'd prefer not to talk about it so let's just drop it tripod!" replied the boy snidely. With a quick strike on the doorframe, Yeung had the door open. What Tien saw next would give him nightmares for the rest of his life.

"OH MY GOD!"

Before him was a scene out of Hell itself. Empty beer bottles, cigarette buds, blunts, and soda cans were strung out everywhere, and a barbeque grill had been left on to sizzle out causing the whole apartment to smell like charcoal smoke. Thongs were casually tossed about everywhere and used rubbers littered the corners.

"Oh, I see that the college coeds are done using the place," said Yeung.

"College coeds?!" repeated the triclops.

"Yeah, I let a bunch of college kids out of West City use my apartment as a place to crash in my absence in exchange for a fee," explained the boy smiling. "It gave me a chance to make easy money off those frat boys and a chance to annoy the crap out of my landlady."

"Phew Oh, that's good," said Tien who seemed genuinely relieved, "For a moment, I thought you actually led this kind of lifestyle."

"What are you talking about?" asked Yeung cocking an eyebrow, "Half of this mess _is_ mine."

Upon hearing this, Tein went pale and headed right out the door, Bending down in front of the hedges, he began to vomit profusely.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It took Yeung about twenty minutes to pack his bags(and about twice as long for Tien to stop puking) and the two of them were once again on their way.

"So, who are we looking for?" inquired Yeung.

"He's an old teacher of mine," explained Tien, "And judging by the way you behave, you might like him."

Tein looked back at the boy and studied him for a moment. For such a small fighter, Yeung at least looked somewhat the part of a martial artist unlike many of his fellow Z-senshi when they were his age. Although only slightly taller than four feet and despite the apparent lack of visual build, Yeung's body was compact and broad. His face was somewhat chunky and his jet black hair was fashioned into a bowl cut. The boy was big-boned and his tanned skin was absolutely riddled with scars that formed a sickening mishmash of patterns.

Of all the features that composed Yeung's appearance, none drew more attention than the bright red spot that seemed as though it had been branded into the boy's forehead. Tien had seen people in the high mountains of his native country wear the spot as a symbol of their faith, and as such, it gave Tien an idea as to where this boy was originally from.

"You're from the desert regions aren't you?" asked Tien.

"Huh?"

"It's the red spot on your forehead," said Tien, "It tells your story for you."

"I was raised in a monastic castle in southern Tibet," answered Yeung. "My father and mother were killed when I was very young. I was taken in by the man who trained me in the martial arts."

"Your story is about the same as my own," said Tien. "My parents were also killed when I was a young child. Like you, I too was raised by my first martial arts sensei. I'm guessing that your early life has been fraught with abuse and neglect as well."

"Most of the abuse I suffered was by my own hands," replied the boy, "My sensei was the only one who kept me from going crazy. He was there for me."

"Then I guess that's where our similarities end," continued Tien, "Because it was my first teacher who tried to destroy me."

"And your first teacher is the one we're going to see now?"

At this question, Tien only nodded once.

"Fantastic," muttered Yeung sarcastically.

The two of them continued to blast through the sky at near supersonic speeds for about two hours until they came upon an isolated mountain valley. All through the valley rested lakes of clear blue water and forests of old growth conifers making it resemble something out of Canada. Off in the distance, Yeung could see a fair-sized town that seemed out of place given the pristine place they were in.

Tien began to bring them down slowly so that the change in air pressure from descending would not accidentally cause his passenger to pass out. As they descended, their view of what was on the ground improved somewhat.

From this vantage point, the layout of a compound came into view. The grounds of the compound consisted mostly of buildings fashioned after an ancient oriental style that harkened back to the time of some ancient Chinese dynasty.

As Tien and Yeung got closer to the ground, they noticed that much of the ground based facility was deteriorated as if from neglect, and the whole place seemed as empty as a ghost town. Most of the windows were boarded up and a 'For Sale' sign adorned the front gate.

The two of them touched down in the front parking lot of the complex. Yeung hopped off Tien's back and strode up to the front gate.

"Man, this place looks even less cheery from the parking lot than it does from the air," remarked Tien.

"Hey, Tien!" mouthed Yeung, "What's the big deal? The place is empty."

"I don't understand it," stated Tien, "Tsurusuma's martial arts studio was throbbing with business when I left it."

"When did you last train here?"

"About twenty years ago I think," answered Tien. "I know that a lot can happen in that timeframe but my gosh."

"Well, the average lifespan of a small business is five years," explained Yeung.

"Thank you for completely useless statistics," muttered Tien sarcastically.

"You're welcome." Yeung reached for the latch on the front gate and to his immediate surprise, it was unlocked.

"Hey! The gates not locked!" declared the boy enthusiastically, "Maybe, someone's still here. Come on!"

"Hey wait up!" shouted Tien. The three-eyed fighter followed Yeung inside, and just as the two of them were in, an aged voice boomed from one of the halls.

"Stop right there intruders!"

Immediately, Yeung and Tien turned to face the voice. Before them stood a half-man, half-machine anomaly, a cyborg no less. It was a man who looked as if he had gotten in a fight with a toaster and lost. His head was covered in a metal skull cap and in the place of his eyes were a pair of bionic optical devices that zoomed in and out methodically like those on a camera. He wore long pink robes with the symbol for 'Crane' blazoned across the front.

"Mercenary Toa!" yelled Tien.

"You know this guy Tien?" asked Yeung.

"Tien-san?!" spoke Toa, "Why are you here? Came to laugh at my misfortunes have you?"

"Misfortunes?"

"Yes," said the old assassin. The disgraced warrior took a seat on a nearby crate before continuing, "In the years since your betrayal, things have gone belly up for me and Shin. My brother got the worst of it though."

"I sense a long story coming," said Tien. "Yeung, maybe we'd better sit down and listen."

"Considering the pain you have caused me and my brother, that's the least you could do!" retorted the aged cyborg, "Ok, Where should I begin?"

"At the beginning would be nice," answered Tien.

"Alright, here we go," said Toa, "After my shameful defeat at your hands in the 23rd Tenkaichi quarterfinals, I couldn't look my brother in the eyes anymore. Not only had I been maimed by Goku years earlier, but I had also lost to my former pupil. So, after I got back on my feet, I left home in disgrace. In my absence, many of my brother's remaining students lost faith in their master's teachings. I guess seeing me go destroyed their resolve as martial artists for if the brother of the sensei leaves than it raises a red flag to the others. Over time, money stopped coming in and the number of unpaid utility bills began to pile up."

At this point, Mercenary Toa was visibly shaking. Still, he continued on…

"My brother got so desperate that he even took out a substantial loan to cover the expenses of running the school while using our old house as collateral. Fast forward a few years, business continued to go into a downward spiral, and as a result, my brother lost his home. He continued to keep the school afloat using his old age pension, but it wasn't enough. One day he just decided he couldn't hack it anymore so he went to his medicine cabinet, grabbed as many pills as he could, and two weeks later he was found dead on the toilet."

"Pai-Pai Sama, I never knew…" whispered Tien, "I'm sorry."

"No you're not!" yelled the old hit man, "Don't hand me that crap! Do you know what it's like to go through life believing you were the best only to wake up one day to find out you've been deluding yourself? Well, do you!"

Toa suddenly jumped up from his seat and threw one of the crates lining the walls across the room in a fit of rage. The crate splintered on impact as though it had been launched from a cannon. His temper partially sated, the old assassin sat back down and continued.

"You were my best thing in life Tien! I thought of you as my best contribution to the future of the Crane School! But then you betrayed the school so that you could roll with Roshi and his turtle turd squad! I was so mad that I told myself that I'd never stop until you were dead!"

Toa paused for a moment and attempted to look away before going on…

"My story is almost as bad as that of my brother's," said Toa solemnly. "In a way, you could say that my lifestyle as a cold-blooded killer had finally caught up to me. Upon entering my self-enacted exile, I had to start over from scratch. I was out of money due to the medical bills inferred from the reconstruction of my body and most of my original clients had been sent to prison. The criminal underworld that I entered after my revival was not the same as the one that I had left. Familiar faces were few and far between. I was forced to rebuild my street cred, but that, like the Crane School, never recovered. Eventually, I was forced to take on jobs as a petty thug cowering at the feet of those insignificant sows in the Yakuza."

Toa looked Tien in the eyes as if trying to convey a feeling had it not been for his old facial injuries.

"I finally understand," said Toa solemnly, "I finally understand why those turtle hermit nitwits lived the way they did. I've come to the conclusion that the more pain you cause others, the more you will receive in full. In a twisted way I finally feel complete. More so than I did before Son Goku crippled me. Look at what happened to my brother! It seems I've finally come full circle."

From their vantage point, it almost looked as though the younger of the Crane brothers was starting to cry.

"Finally, one day recently, Goku came back into my life and caused me to loose face yet again in the eyes of my clientele. It was then that I knew I had hit rock bottom. I couldn't do anything about Goku. I was petrified with fear. I thought he had come to finish the job! It wasn't long after then that I had received a letter informing me of my brother's passing. In his will, he had left to me the one thing he had left to give: This dilapidated dojo."

"Listen to me Toa!" said Tien standing up. "I never officially joined the Turtle Hermit's School! Sure, I consider Master Roshi a spiritual counselor but it was you who taught me my basic fighting style. The hurt I felt when I thought Goku had killed you caused me to go mad with rage!"

"I idolized you old man!" boomed Tien, "I grew up wanting to be as strong and as cool as you, but later on, I realized that I could never be just like you! I couldn't be a cold-blooded murderer! No matter how many times I killed, I never could get over my feelings of guilt from doing it!"

Tien swallowed before continuing, "I came to question Master Shin's teachings for it was those very teachings that were forcing me to give up a part of myself that I just couldn't let go of. Then when I disobeyed him, he tried to have me killed by Choatzu!"

It was then that Tien walked over to sit beside his old teacher. The older assassin hunched over and cradled his bionic head in his hands in an attempt to keep from facing his former student.

"Listen Pai-Pai Sama!" coaxed Tien, "It's tough hitting rock bottom. I know because I've been there before, but that doesn't mean that you should just give up!"

"That's easy for you to say boy," said Toa, "You're still in your prime. I'm too old to start all over again! I have no pension, no plans for the future, no money, not even my dignity."

"It's never too late to start over again sensei," spoke Tien in an attempt to encourage his old mentor, "However, building yourself up again requires hard work. I should know. Even after my transformative experience, I kept on having to climb. In a big way, that's all life is; a long climb in which you're constantly hanging over a deep chasm."

"Why did you come back here in the first place Tien?" asked the old cyborg. "There's nothing left of interest here for you. Surely, it isn't of any entirely altruistic motive!"

Tien smiled to himself before pointing over his shoulder at Yeung.

Mercenary Toa looked back at the boy a few moments before asking, "What's up with the kid?"

"He needs someone to train him in our arts," answered the tryclops. "I don't have time to do it and by the looks of things, you could use a new student."

"Are you sure you want me teaching that kid?" asked Mercenary Toa, "I'm not in the best position to teach anything right now."

"Pai-Pai Sama! That boy may be the only chance you'll have of rebuilding the old school," replied the triclops.

"Is he good?" asked Toa.

"Let's just say there's barely a hairs' worth of difference between his strength now and Muten Roshi's," explained Tien, "Just imagine what he'll be like after the training."

"Hmm…, Alright! I'll do it!" declared Toa Pai-Pai.

"YOU Will!" Yeung was almost ecstatic at this point.

"However…" smirked Toa….

"Huh?"

"I'm not doing it on the cheap!" said Toa crossing his arms, "The boy has a week to pay his monthly fee. Otherwise, I'll drop his midget ass!"

Suddenly, Yeung handed a paper slip to Mercenary Toa.

"What's this?" asked the old assassin scanning the paper.

"Go to a bank!" said Yeung, "You'll find it's the real thing."

"OH MY GOD! WE'RE IN BUISNESS!" shouted the elder cyborg cheerfully.

Yeung simply stood there with a shit-eating grin on his face. He had just handed the 10 million zenni he had hustled out of Hercule Satan earlier that day over to Mercenary Toa, securing his place in the soon to be popular again, Crane School of Martial Arts.

Power Levels:

Rolo Yeung: 119

Tien Shenhan: 8.5 million

Toa Pai-Pai: 180

Krillain Chestnut: 4 million

Yamacha: 2 million


	10. No School Like The Old School

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of DragonBall Z, Dragonball, or any of the characters within

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of DragonBall Z, Dragonball, or any of the characters within. These Mangas are the exclusive property of Akira Toryama. However, Rolo Yeung, Hard Copper, and Fein are my property.

Chapter 10: No School Like the Old School

Far off on Kane Island, Krillain and Yamacha had just got through explaining to everyone where Tien Shenhan had taken the mysterious boy from the Cell Games, Rolo Yeung.

"Has Tien blown a gasket!?" shouted the old Turtle Hermit.

"He said he did it based on a lesson he derived from you Master!" informed Krillain waving his arms frantically, "It was a really good speech. The kind you hear about once a decade."

"Oh boy…, Just what is Tien thinking?" muttered Roshi. "He knows full well how powerful that boy has the potential of becoming! I felt that kid's ki spike through the roof all the way to my island! Handing the Crane School that kind of a progeny could very well be the biggest mistake since I messed up with the evil containment wave against King Piccolo!"

"Look guys!" said Chaotzu, "If Tien's actions worry you that much, you should ask him about his motives when he gets back."

Just then, the door opened up and Oolong stepped into the room.

"Fellas! Someone's coming toward the island by boat!" said the pig.

Immediately, all in the Kane House filed onto the beach to greet the newcomer. The newcomer in question was a tall, lanky, African looking male. He looked to be in his late teens and had a thick head of deadlocked hair. He also wore a yellow fighting gi and a pair of high toped shoes. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulders and as he stepped out onto the beach he was walking with a cool stride that seemed to convey a state of coolio.

"Can you feel that?" asked Krillain.

"Hmm.." mused the Turtle Hermit.

"He's way stronger than a normal person," whispered Yamacha to the others. "His ki presence is unmistakable."

The tall visitor continued to walk with imbued arrogance until he stood right in front of Master Roshi. Without further a due, he gave a curt bow to the aged warrior.

"Master Roshi," greeted the boy with confidence. "My name is Fein. I came here to ask that you train me in the ancient ways."

"Hmm, I'm a little cramped for space right now," said the old man, "I've already got about four other folks living with me. Sorry. Just get back in your boat and sail home."

"Not so fast Master!" said Yamacha. "If you aren't gonna train him, than I will."

"But Yamacha, I thought you said you were going on vacation," said Krillain.

Suddenly, Muten Roshi grabbed the back of Yamacha's gi and drug him away just out of hearing distance until they were just around the Kane House.

"What's gotten into that skull of yours?" inquired the old master.

"We can't just let someone like this slip through our fingers," retorted Yamacha, "Just feel his ki presence! He's even stronger than I was when I started training under you."

"Just because someone can be a strong fighter doesn't mean that someone should," said Roshi, "There's just something about that kid's attitude that irks me."

"OK, so he's got a bad vibe," stammered Yamacha, "I'll work that out of him. How hard can it be?"

"You do realize that training a new student isn't just some childish game," explained Roshi in a condescending manner, "You have to stick to your student's training schedule just as much as he does. You have to work closely with him throughout his life as a martial artist. As a master, you must act as both a teacher and as a spiritual guide, earning his respect as you go."

"Then I can train him?" asked Yamacha.

"You don't need my permission," said Roshi, "Just try and do a good job."

The two of them walked out from around the house. While the two of them were conferring, Fein took the opportunity to put his boat back in its capsule.

"Well kiddo!" said Yamacha, "Look's like your coming home with me!"

"So I'm in?" asked Fein enthusiastically.

"Yes, and you can call me 'Sensei," stated Yamacha beaming with pride.

"Yamacha, I thought you said you didn't have time for a pupil," said Krillain, "What gives?"

"Well, Tien's speech back at the lookout left an impression on me," explained Yamacha, "I want to try my hand at teaching as well." Yamacha stepped up to Fein and put his arm around the teen's shoulders.

"Kid," started the ex-bandit, "When I'm done with you, you're gonna put every one of us to shame. When we're through, you're gonna eat lightning and crap thunder!"

"Well, what are we waiting for?!" asked Fein in an ecstatic manner, "Let's bounce!"

"Hey, Master Roshi! We've got ourselves a live wire here!" hollered Yamacha over his shoulder. "Oh, and tell Puar to come on!"

With that, Yamacha threw one of his dynocaps into the sand. From it, emerged a bright red hovercar that had the words "Lady's Man" blazoned on the hull. Both he and his new student jumped into the vehicle and waited until Yamacha's little blue cat Puar floated out to them.

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into boy," whispered Roshi to himself.

"I don't see what the problem is," said Krillain, " With any luck, it's going to be many years before that kid's strong enough to be a real threat, especially with Yamacha as his teacher. We should have plenty of time to weed him out before then."

"Yamacha's a good kid," said Roshi, "It's just that there are some bad qualities that I wish I could have had time to work out of him."

"Master?"

"Ever since Bulma left him for Vegeta, his character has become worse and worse. He may soon find himself reaping the fruits of his backsliding. Hmm… then again…" smiled Roshi, "This may be a good experience for him. Let's see just how he likes having to worry about someone else constantly."

Master Roshi, Krillain, and Oolong turned and walked back into the Kane House. On the way in, Roshi collected his dirty magazines that he had laid out on the patio table.

"What's that you said earlier about backsliding?" asked Oolong sarcasticly.

"Oh, shut up!"

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Elsewhere, Yeung and his new sensei, Mercenary Toa, were putting the finishing touches on the Crane Dojo compound. For at least an hour they had been ripping boards off the windows all in preparation for when the renovation team would finally arrived to lay the new floor. Along with the windows, the two of them had unpacked décor from the crates, removed cobwebs, laid out mousetraps, scrubbed whatever window panes were left over, and accounted for whatever old training machines that were still functional. Because of their physical strength, neither of them had trouble unpacking the crates or moving the antique furniture, much of which dated back to the Song Dynasty, and dusting the rafters was no problem for Toa due to his ability to use the flying technique. However, neither of them proved much use in the area of painting and as such Toa was going to have to hire an additional team to paint the exterior.

"After we 'ump' finish up here, I want you to hop on the roof and assess the weather damage," said Toa Pai Pai ripping another board off a window frame. "The tiles on the roof may be made of ceramics, but the layer underneath is very susceptible to moisture damage. I need to know whether I'm gonna have to hire a carpenter to refurbish the roof. A shoddy roof can be dangerous, especially above the sparring room."

"Hai!" nodded Yeung. The youth continued to remove rusty nails before casually tossing the weathered boards into a heap in what was once the Japanese sand garden."

"Hey! Watch it with those nails!" ordered Toa, "You're still too young to have had all your shots."

"How should I dispose of these old boards?" asked Yeung.

"Let me take care of that." Turning around, Toa pointed his metallic finger at the pile of waste wood. Suddenly, his entire forelimb began to glow an ethereal golden glow.

"DODONPA!"

Immediately, the entire central garden was immersed in the glow of a brilliant beam of light akin to that of a precision laser. The next thing Yeung knew, the pile of old wood burst into roaring flames.

"Holy crap!" shouted Yeung in amazement, "What was that?!"

"That my boy is the Dodonpa," declared the old assassin, "Someday soon you too will master this technique. It is the signature move mastered by my older brother, the Crane Hermit back in the days of the ancient martial arts master Mutaito. It is but one of many special attacks that the Crane School has in its' arsenal."

"So, when I leave here, I'll take that move with me?"

"Leave here?!" boomed Toa, "You paid for a lifetime membership. Never forget boy, it is your responsibility from now on to carry our school's banner to the far reaches of antiquity. Our rivals, the Turtle Hermit School, may have a longer and more recent winning streak, but it is their school that is destined to fade into history's dust bin."

With a stern look or at least whatever passed as a stern look coming from his half-prosthetic face, Toa was now staring directly at Yeung. The old cyborg then asked "Do you know why that is boy?"

"Ok, I'll bite," said Yeung crossing his arms, "Why is that?"

Toa gave a smooth grin before answering, "Because they are too sparse in their selection of students! Their master, the Turtle Hermit, Master Roshi only trains new students on increments of 50 years, and even then the number of students is only about two. Considering that his school has been around for about a century, that isn't saying much is it?"

"But sensei, isn't it important to have some kind of selective process?" asked Yeung.

"Not when there is no real litmus test," replied the old man, "Roshi doesn't even screen the people he trains. He just picks those that appeal to his baser instincts. There is no logic in any of it. One example of what I'm talking about would be Roshi's fourth student Krillain. In all my years of observing martial artists I have never seen someone lose as often or as badly as he does. Even when he wins, it's never without a heap of difficulty. He has none of the advantages that Goku, Yamacha, or even the Ox King had. He's a bumbling embarrassment! I can tell you that much just from watching his old matches on tape."

Toa began to pace back and forth as he continued to rant. "Looking back, I'd say that Goku was the one and only true monster out of all of them."

"You mentioned Goku before," said Yeung, "Did you know him?"

"Yes," spoke Toa who was now shaking in his shoes, "I got to _know_ him a little too well. He's the reason I look the way I do now."

"How did it happen?" asked Yeung.

"He maimed me in battle during one of my missions as an assassin," explained the older man. "A terrorist organization calling itself the Red Ribbon Army hired me to kill him. At first things were going well until I botched it. I mistook him for dead and gave him time to get reorganized. Afterwards, I returned to the sight of our first encounter and found that he had used his window of preparation for our rematch wisely. In a last ditch effort, I attempted to take him by surprise by way of deception. Using an antipersonnel grenade, I intended to take him by surprise. Needless to say, it backfired. To this very day I live in regret thinking about what I should have done. However, there was one lesson I took from that ill day: When you kill someone, make sure that they're dead!"

Yeung simply nodded once before heading topside to the roof. The roof was slanted so he had to perform a minor balancing act before he was fully settled.

"How's it looking up there?!" hollered Toa.

"Hold on a moment!" replied the teen warrior. "Alright, the roof seems OK!"

"Stomp around on it a little bit!" commanded Toa, "You never can be too careful with these things!"

Yeung promptly did as Toa told him and came down on the roof hard with his left foot. Needless to say, this little action sent his foot right through the tiled surface into the attic below.

"Uhh..Oops!"

"Oops?!" said Toa, "Oops is never a good thing! What's wrong?!"

"Well, the good news is that we now have a sunroof," snickered Yeung.

Forgetting that his hands were made of steel, Toa, upon hearing this, slapped his own forehead with a resounding clank. This, however, immediately knocked him out cold.

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After an undeterminably long amount of time, Yeung finally managed to wake his new sensei from his near comatose state. When Toa awoke, he found that he was in a hospital room surrounded by life support equipment such as a respirator, IV fluids, and a heart monitor. He looked around from his bedridden position and saw Yeung standing over him with a bottle of smelling salts.

"What's going on?!" bellowed the ex-assassin in a panicky state. This caused Yeung to almost jump out of his skin.

"Great, you're awake," said Yeung relieved, "You've been out cold for three days."

"Three days?!" cried Toa, "Holy crap! We've gotta get back to work!"

"It's all taken care of old-timer," assured Yeung, "The renovation team arrived and within that timeframe, they were able to relay the floor in concrete just like you specified. As for the roof, I hired a carpenter."

"How much longer do I have to stay here?"

"Let me find a nurse and see what can be done about your release," replied Yeung.

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Hours later at the newly refurbished Crane Dojo, Toa was making further preparations for the school's grand reopening. The school had been outside of credible fighting circuits for so many years that as the new Crane Hermit, Mercenary Toa was in the process of reregistering the dojo for competitive events. Flyers had to be posted, phone calls had to be made, and flyers had to be posted.

"So how did it go?" asked the teen warrior.

Mercenary Toa had just got off the phone with the director of the Martial Arts Society. Getting bureaucratic mess out of the way proved far easier for the old assassin considering the history of success the school had at tournaments under his brother's auspice. That, and Toa's own archaic record as a six time World Martial Arts Champion didn't hurt.

"The society has reregistered our dojo," declared Toa proudly, "The next tournament is in eight months."

"You mean the Tenkaichi Budokai?" inquired the boy.

"No," said Toa flatly, "This particular event is the national martial arts tournament of this country. However, one shouldn't expect this tournament to be a small one by any means. Many of the martial artists who compete in the World Tournament also compete in national tournaments. This particular tournament is especially important for the dojo in that it will give us a chance to rebuild our school's street credit. It should be particularly easy for us to accomplish this part because that fool Hercule Satan is competing in this tournament."

"So when do we begin the training?" asked Yeung, "I'm ready to get started."

"We will begin tomorrow," said Toa, "In the meantime, I want you to go into town and put out these fliers." Toa handed a stack of fliers to Yeung that seemed to reach to the ceiling.

"Been making use of the new printer I see," stated Yeung, "Did you put all the contact information on these?"

"But of course," smiled Toa. "While you're out completing this little task, I'm going to make some more phone calls to dig up some information on our likely competition in the upcoming nationals. There's also the matter of reinstating our DSL internet service."

"I'll be back later then," said Yeung as he was heading out the front gate.

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Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, a certain three-eyed warrior was making his landing on the wave soaked beaches of Muten Roshi's island…

"Tien!" shouted a small mime-looking boy, "I'm so happy to see you! We're finally safe again!"

"Yes, Choatzu," said Tien, "It's over, at least for a little while."

'_At least until the next threat comes along anyway,'_

"Tien!"

The triclops turned around to see Master Roshi walking up behind him. The old master had the same look as that of a boxing second when conferring with his fighter before the main event. Tien could tell right away that something serious was up.

"Tien, what is this that I've been hearing about you handing some kid off to Master Shin?" demanded the old master, "Just what is it you think you're doing?!"

Tien put his hands up in a defensive gesture before explaining, "Master, with all due respect, I only did what I did so as not to burden you sir! You got too many people living under your roof as it is! I just wanted to make sure that my 'discovery' got a little more bulking up before I trained him personally. That's it, nothing more!"

"Is that really the only reason you chose to have that kid trained?" asked the old Turtle Hermit.

"Well, to be honest master, no," admitted Tien, "There are many reasons, one of them being that I see a part of myself in that boy. That, and I once recalled something you said to me long ago. It is something that I took to heart, and with Goku gone, it's needed now more than ever."

"Hmm, what is it?" asked Roshi. "I can't recall that far back."

"It goes something like 'the world always needs a few new heroes.'"

"I'm glad to see that you're still following my advice," said Roshi, "However, I believe that you should have exercised a little more caution in applying it. Believe it or not Tien, after Goku, Gohan, and Vegeta pulled as far ahead of the rest of you as they did, I was under the impression that every one of you boys were all going to fall into a state of apathy."

"There's also another element at work here master," said the triclops. "It has something to do with what you've just said."

Silence hung in the air as Tien gathered his thoughts before continuing. Finally, looking down at his feet, Tien resumed.

"Well, I'm starting to reach that point in my life in which I feel as though a lot of the work I did to get ready for Cell and the androids was for nothing. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't make a noticeable difference. Everything I did just made me a tougher punching bag for our enemies. I trained just as hard as Goku and Vegeta, and I still didn't come out anywhere near being half as strong as those two."

Tien swallowed before going on, "I guess what I'm looking for now master, is vindication that I was more than just a speed bump for whatever enemies we fought against. I want to believe that it's possible for a human to achieve greatness even by Goku's standard."

"That's a tall order Tien," said Roshi, "Normally this is the part where I'm supposed to say that "you can accomplish anything if you can put your mind to it," but in this case, I'm willing to bet that what you're trying to do is virtually impossible!"

"And that is the very reason why I chose to do this!" snapped Tien. "Seeing Goku get so far ahead of me despite all my hard work hurts me more than you can imagine! I trained just as hard as Goku did and still, I'm no better off than I was when I fought King Piccolo years back! If I can see just one Earthling fighter get as strong as an alien fighter, I'll die a happy man. At least it will let me look back on my years as a fighter and say that there was at least some chance that given the right circumstances, I could have competed with Goku or at least Piccolo!"

"Until you begin to train that strange kid personally, what will you do?" asked Roshi.

"I'm going to use the next few weeks to burry the hatchet with Launch," answered Tien. "Once that's done, I'm going to check on that boys' progress."

"Well Tien, try to stay in touch," said Roshi, "None of us really ever see much of you unless there's a crisis."

"Me and Choatzu here tend to keep to our own little group," said Tien.

"I know!" chuckled Roshi, "When you two don't want to be found, you can't be found!"

With that, Tien and Choatzu said their goodbyes before flying off to go find Launch.

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Elsewhere, the ever active Rolo Yeung was busying himself with the posting of flyers for his new adoptive dojo. He had covered a remarkable stretch of ground since beginning the task only a few hours ago, and now the sky was beginning to take on the familiar hue of dusk.

With most of the flyers already gone, he turned to post what was left of the print-offs to the sides of lamp posts in the parking lot of the local metropolitan supermarket. However, due to his disadvantage in height, he was forced to climb up to where the average eyelevel of most people would be.

With staple gun and flyer in hand, the boy hoisted himself up the slick post, all the while grimacing at how even the most mundane tasks seemed to be punishment from God.

"Maybe the alcohol _is_ stunting my growth," hissed Yeung as he traversed yet another of the pesky lamp posts.

After about another thirty minutes of this, the teen fighter called it quits and chunked what was left of the redundant flyers in a trash bin. It had been a long, weird, exhausting day and he was tired, smelly, and famished. A good meal followed promptly by a decent bath was a long time in coming.

By the time Yeung had gotten back to the Crane Dojo, his new sensei Toa Pai-Pai, had a table set for the two of them. The dish itself consisted of a combination of fried rice, baked camel hump, and boiled eggs which happened to be Mercenary Toa's personal favorite.

"It took you longer than expected," spoke the aged assassin, "Sit down and eat. I've much to discuss with you."

Taking a seat at the opposite end of the table, Yeung eyed the spread before him. Needing no invitation, he reached for his chopsticks and loaded his plate with whatever was within reach. Digging into the cooked camel hump, it was Yeung who kicked off the conversation.

"So, what are the rules of this tournament that I'll be training for?"

"They are basically the same as those pertaining to the World Tournament," Toa answered between mouthfuls, "You lose if you fall out of the ring, give up, or pass out. Use of lethal force is strictly forbidden. Also, there is no set fighting time. In the event that both fighters are knocked cold simultaneously, the one who stands up first and shouts 'winner' is victorious."

"Also," began Toa, "There are the preliminary bouts. I want you to know that a majority of the fighting that you will be engaged in will be in the prelims. They have always served as a way of weeding out the losers. However…."

Yeung looked up from his tea upon hearing the "However" part.

"…The prelims in this tournament will be different from the classical prelims at the world stage. For one thing, they are a part of the spectacle. The audience gets to see just how bad the incompetent competitors suck."

"Do you have any info on my major competition?" Yeung asked before turning back to his eggs.

"Does the name "Mountain King" ring a bell?" inquired Toa.

Upon hearing that name, Yeung did the most spectacular spit take imaginable and covered the cyborg sitting across from him in bits of half-chewed eggs.

"I take it from the fireworks that you've heard of him," remarked Toa. The old hit man dabbed his face momentarily with a napkin before continuing, "He is this year's local favorite. He announced his intentions to compete only a few days ago."

"Hard Copper…" Considering his last encounter with the man, to Yeung, that name sounded as though it were poison. Thinking back to his almost pitiful defeat at the giants' hands, Yeung clinched his fists so tightly blood began to leak out onto the tablecloth. "Yeah, we've met."

"Then you realize how important the next eight months are going to be in your preparations," explained Toa, "From tomorrow on, you will be training constantly with the single mission of pulverizing that man. I will guide you as much as I can, but remember that I still have a school to run. There will eventually be other students who will need me as well, and so, later on you will have to do some of your training on your own. I may even have to have your assistance. Is that acceptable?"

"I guess so," said the boy.

"Very good," smirked Toa, "After we clean up this mess, I want you to shower and go to bed early. Tomorrow's gonna be hell!"

"Just so you know, I'm not scared," remarked Yeung.

"My boy! You will be…You will be…"

Power levels:

Note: An average human being has a power level of 5.

Rolo Yeung: 119

Mercenary Toa: 180

Fein: 77

Just what will Yeung's training under the Crane School's Mercenary Toa, entail? And what about Fein's? Until next time….


	11. Not Even Kami Can Save You

Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z, Dragonball, or any of the characters in these great mangas

Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z, Dragonball, or any of the characters in these great mangas. These titles are the exclusive property of Akira Toryama and Toei Animation. However, Rolo Yeung, Fein, and Hard Copper are my original characters so hands off!

Chapter 11: Not Even God Can Save You From Me

The following morning, Yeung was awoken from his deep sleep with a painful blow to his ribcage. Immediately, the boy rolled out of his cot and onto the floor where he began to gasp painfully for air.

His eyes tearing up, the young martial artist looked up to see his new sensei, Mercenary Toa, staring down at him with something akin to disgust.

"Why the Hell did you do that?!" asked Yeung irritably, "There _are _better ways to wake someone up you know!"

"It's time to get up you lazy bum!" nagged the older man, "Now get up! Breakfast is on the table."

"Breakfast?" Yeung rolled over and slowly pushed himself up. After a quick dust off, he followed Toa Pai Pai sama into the kitchen.

Yeung took his place at the table and loaded his plate with fried rice and dumplings. Toa sat right across from him with his personalized dish of scrambled eggs and cheese. Yeung ate hastily in anticipation for his first day of training under the former killer.

Toa, on the other hand, devoured his eggs with reservation as if trying to enjoy his meal. Finally, it was Toa who decided to speak up.

"Before we begin your first day of training under the school of the crane, I would like to know your previous experience in the martial arts. Tien told me that you are a damned good fighter for your age, and I would like to see if it's true."

Yeung scarfed down a whole mouthful of rice before replying, "Well, I was adopted by the Eighteenth Tenkaichi Tournament Champion when I was about six. He instructed me in the fighting styles of Brazilian Jujitsu and the Fist of the Holiest Rite. At about the age of eleven, I advanced to the hall of blades, an initiation test designed to midwife new masters of our fighting style. It involves a room full of mechanized spears and swords."

"And what were the results?" inquired the old assassin.

"Well, I didn't exactly pass with flying colors. I lived apparently. No, my victory over that test was more of a 'limping across the finish line thing.' My best friend however, danced through it. After my rite of passage, my old master thought it best that both I and my friend leave the school so that we may develop our fighting skills elsewhere."

"And what have you been doing since then?" asked Toa.

"Drifting from one martial arts dojo to another looking for fights," answered Yeung, "Since leaving my first school, I'll bet you that I've killed over two hundred people in street fights."

"Well, the style you'll be learning from me for the next eight months will surely liken to your fancy boy," Toa bragged with a grin. "Based on my extensive experience, I can certainly tell you that the Crane Style is an assassin's best friend. You just don't leave home without it!"

Just then, there was a loud knock on the front doors.

"Let me get that," said Yeung standing up. He answered the door half expecting it to be one of the bill collectors that Toa had mentioned yesterday. Instead, standing in the door was a young boy.

The scrawny boy looked to be about seven or eight years old and stood just a little shorter than Yeung. He had sandy blond hair and was well dressed in a fine suit that made him look like he'd just stepped out of boarding school. This gave to the possibility that the kid was born into money.

"Hello," the kid greeted warmly, "How are you? Umm… my name is Den Sum Tang."

Yeung eyed the small boy curiously before asking, "What do you want?"

The little kid nervously shuffled his feet a little before continuing, "This the new martial arts school that's supposed to be opening up isn't it?"

"What's going on out here?!" Mercenary Toa came up from behind Yeung and stood just behind the teenaged fighter. The young boy took a step back upon seeing the cybernetic face of the old mercenary. Mercenary Toa eyed the boy for a moment and this made the child slowly shuffle backwards. Finally, the young boy found the nerve to speak.

"Uh… Are you the sensei at this school?" inquired the new kid. The boy then dropped to his knees and bowed like his life depended on it. "Please! My name is Den Sum and I would very much like to train under you!"

"Can you pay the monthly fees?" asked Toa, "This school isn't cheap I'll mind you! We run a top class operation here!"

"Oh, yes sir!" assured the youth, "My mommy will pay out of the nose just to keep me out of her hair!"

"The fees are seventy-five zennis a month. You miss one payment and I'll cut you from this school!"

"Come on in…" Yeung ushered the boy into the studio right behind Toa. Once inside, Den Sum took a seat at the table right across from Toa with Yeung opting to stand next to the old Crane assassin.

"Alright boy!" spoke Toa, "Why do you wish to join this school?"

In response to the Crane assassin's question the boy just sat there like fidgeting. Fact is, the child looked as though he wanted to say something but just couldn't seem to come out with it. Mercenary Toa was beginning to grow very impatient.

"Well!" snapped Toa, "Speak up!"

The child looked down at his feet for a moment before he started to shake furiously. Suddenly, the kid began to sniffle as tears began to slide down his rosy cheeks. Finally, the youth tried to speak…

"I…I…I got b-beat up in school!" stuttered the young boy fitfully, "They're always hurting me…"

Feeling a spark of sympathy for the runt, Yeung asked, "Who's always hurting you?"

"All of them sniff. The other kids, the teachers, the headmaster….I want to show them!"

Grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat, the old Mercenary Toa decided to throw his sales pitch.

"Well my boy, you've come to the right place!" said the ex hit man in an assuring manner, "At this school we have absolutely no ethical standards. That's right! It's all 'pay to play' in this joint!"

"S-so you'll train me then?" asked the boy, his voice betraying a sense of hope.

"Sure…"

"Yippee!" Upon hearing this, the little boy wiped his eyes and began to bounce around the room with glee.

Mercenary Toa couldn't help but smile to himself at his latest client/student.

_Got one! Hook, line, and sinker!_ _Just open the door and in they will come._

"Den Sum," said Toa, "Before we saddle you with any kind of training regiment, I would like to get a feel for what level I'll have to start you at."

"How you gonna do that?"

"Simple lad," answered Toa, "I'm going to first have you fight your senior." Toa was patting Yeung on the head like a French Poodle. This made Yeung seethe a little on the inside.

It took a moment for the significance of Toa's words to hit home with the child. "Me! Fight! With Him!?"

"Of course you could run home with your tail between your legs like a good little momma's boy," offered the old assassin in an attempt to shame the kid into staying, "It's your call son!"

The boy thought about it for a moment before reluctantly but quietly accepting.

"I-I'll do it…"

"What was that?" asked Toa sarcastically, "I must have had some wax in my ear."

"I SAID I'LL DO IT!" snapped the kid.

"Splendid," said Toa pursing his hands together gleefully, "This way boys!"

Toa held the door open for his new students as the youths made their way into the parking lot out in front of the dojo. His lack of enthusiasm evident, Den Sum seemed to be half dragging himself behind Toa and Yeung.

"P-promise you won't hurt me OK," stammered the runt. The little kid brought his fists up in an amateurish defense.

"Fine," huffed Yeung. Yeung didn't even assume a stance. He looked the boy up and down a few times before he noticed something grossly humiliating: His opponent was pissing his pants! This was not lost on Mercenary Toa who sat by shaking his head with pity.

"Hooo boy!" exclaimed Toa, "Looks like that kid is gonna have to be trained from the ground up."

"You may proceed!" ordered the elder assassin.

No sooner had Toa said that than Den Sum dropped to the floor unconscious. Yeung stood there dumbfounded by what had just happened.

"Sweet Jesus!" shouted Toa, "You KOed him so fast I didn't even see it! Woah!"

"Uhh… actually sensei, he fainted," said Yeung sweat-dropping.

"Oh, I see."

Toa just stood there and sweat dropped a few moments before walking towards the door.

"I guess I'd better break out the smelling salts…," muttered the elder assassin, "Yeung, get ready! You're fighting me next."

"Uh…Huh?!" Yeung stood there letting those last few words sink in.

'_Well,'_ thought the boy warrior, _'He's old. At least there's not much there to worry about, right?!'_

Moments later, Toa Pai-Pai was standing out front with the two boys, preparing for his match with Rolo Yeung. In the meantime, Den Sum settled himself with just standing out of sight as a spectator as much as he could. He felt so ashamed of wetting himself and fainting and in front of perfect strangers no less!

"Oh man…," mussed the boy grimly, "If the guys at school ever found out about this, I'd never hear the end of it…"

"Well, let's get this over with shall we," said Yeung.

"Wait up kid! I've gotta stretch these old muscles a bit. I'm not exactly a spring chicken I'll have you know!"

"And then you'll lead out with a battle cry of "You kids get off my damned lawn!"," quipped Yeung.

Mercenary Toa sneered a little at that comment before replying in kind, "Keep saying that kid. Just for that, I'm going to take that smart mouth of yours and put it where the sun won't shine."

"Eww.., You actually swing that way!" jested Yeung in mock disgust.

"Enough!" Toa snapped, "Right here and now is where we will determine your place in the Crane hierarchy!" Suddenly and without warning, Mercenary Toa phased out of view.

"Where did he go?!" hollered Den Sum obviously panicked.

Yeung looked around frantically for the old Crane assassin. All of a sudden, Yeung felt something rigid strike the base of his skull. With a cry of anguish, the teen fighter tumbled forward until he was sprawled out on his front.

Where Yeung had been standing, now stood Mercenary Toa in all of his friendly neighborhood killer glory. The old man fiddled with his mustache, seemingly unimpressed.

"I'm wondering…," began the old assassin, "Were all three of Tien's eyes closed when he was presumably 'watching' you fight?"

Yeung slowly pushed himself up from the ground to a standing position and glared daggers at the elder assassin.

"You son of a….Arfph!" Yeung felt something constrict in his throat as if a boa constrictor had found its way to his neck. Desperately, the boy began to claw desperately at his windpipe. In about two minutes, Yeung fell to the floor in a heap trying everything he could to breath.

About the time that Yeung started to turn blue, Toa sauntered up to the boy, reached down, and tapped him on the back of the neck.

Finally, Yeung's lungs began to take in air. Every breath Yeung drew felt labored as if cement had been poured down his throat.

"Earlier, before I struck you I used something called instantaneous movement," explained Toa. "It is super speed that allows one to literally run circles around his opponents. Once I got behind you, I struck an acupressure point on your upper spine that halts respiratory functions. It's but one of many assassination moves that are employed by the Crane Style."

"T-that's pretty sick," sputtered the young warrior, "Wouldn't a move like that disqualify me from the tournament though?"

"True…," stated Toa, "However, we have to take into account our lives in between tournaments as well. I'm not just going to relegate the next eight months of your training to teaching you those moves that are of the Crane variation used in sporting events."

Yeung wiped his eyes to clear his vision. "I wish you would of warned me first if you were gonna do that!"

"I'm an assassin! I don't give warnings. Life isn't just about competitive sports fighting my boy. Martial arts in its purest form, is the ultimate killing power. A tournament does little in the way of justice to that which was developed for struggles of survival. Think back to how you felt when last you were in a life or death situation!"

"Well…," began Yeung setting up, "I felt hatred, rage, and _oppressed…_"

"Oppressed? Why oppressed?"

"Well…Just look at me and figure it out for yourself!" snapped Yeung. The boy spread his arms wide as if showcasing something about himself.

"You're short for your age," said Toa pointing out the obvious.

"That's the understatement of the century," replied Yeung, "Why _however did you manage to figure that out for yourself_?"

Suddenly, Yeung felt himself being thrown backwards by something cold and rigid.

"What the?!" sputtered the boy.

"For using that smart mouth of yours, I'm going to drag this out for a while, or did you forget boy that we still have an exhibition match to complete?" said the old hit man. "I'll refrain from anymore assassination technique demos! Let's just finish this using competitive sports martial arts!"

Toa dropped into a fighting stance showcasing a low center of gravity, one meant solely for defense.

"Come on boy!" commanded Toa, "I'll let you take the initiative."

"Alright," Yeung launched himself off the ground like a bullet with his trajectory aimed right at Toa Pai-Pai sama. Yeung drew back for a powerful horizontal aerial strike. The strike sailed straight for Mercenary Toa's face and just as it looked as if the blow were going to hit, Toa brought his metallic forearm up to intercept it.

A resounding 'ring could be heard as Toa parried Yeung's heart stopping punch with such grace that it seemed like a dance. The problem is, the ridges on Toa's forearm split Yeung's fist open like a box cutter.

Yeung disengaged his partner and began to nurse his wound. Reaching down, the boy tore a peace of cloth from his pant legs and wrapped the gash.

'_Note to self: Watch his forearms!'_

"My God!" shouted Den Sum clasping his hands together, "My sensei is incredible!"

"Well! Are you gonna continue or just stand there playing with your blood?" Toa goaded sarcastically, "Come on! I'm not going to strike! Only defend."

Yeung flew at Toa a second time hell-bent on making a strike. He threw blurring swarms of blows. Elbows, ridge hands, palm strikes, knukatu jabs, hammer fists, knuckle punches, anything and everything were thrown in an attempt to score an interval between the Crane teachers' literally iron-hard blocks, however, not a one of them hit home.

This continued on for about a half hour, and by then Yeung was visibly running out of steam.

"The fire is beginning to go out behind your punches," said Toa parrying another seemingly well placed attack, "We can do this all day Yeung, but I promise you that it will always be the same."

Winded, Yeung dropped to one knee so that he could take a quick breather. His hands looked as though they had been subjected to a grinder and the tips of his fingers were raw with bruises.

'_Not_ _even Choppa could touch this man!' _thought the boy, '_Heck, compared to this guy, even Hard Copper would be helpless!'_

"You don't fight well with your lower body do you?" asked the old Crane assassin.

"……," Yeung looked down at his legs with a grimace. This seemed to confirm Toa's suspicions.

"It shows," stated Toa. "Your legs are powerful boy, yet you do not make full use of them. The Crane style makes use of the legs over hands at a ratio of five to four. You however, use your hands over your legs at a ratio of nine to one."

"Well…, I'm used to using my legs exclusively for submission holds."

Toa looked at Yeung sternly before explaining, "A Crane style without use of heel stomps, spinning heal kicks, flying kicks, or roundhouse kicks is a sad thing indeed. We'll have to make working on variation a center point in your training."

"Alright," said Toa, "Next, I'm going to lead in with a moderate offensive. Use defense, fight back, whatever makes you happy, because this time I want to see how much punishment you can take before losing consciousness!"

Mercenary Toa took yet another fighting stance, this one with a center of gravity that was something of a middle way. Yeung swallowed hard before lowering into his own respective fighting posture.

The two fighters stood there in an old fashioned standoff for about five minutes without either of them making so much as a twitch aside from Yeung's nervous twitching. Back at King Choppoa's monastery, it had been times like this in which Yeung would study the direction of the pupils in his opponents' eyes to determine his next move. However, this method does little against a warrior who lacks natural eyes altogether.

This time, it was Mercenary Toa who moved first. The old assassin blurred out of Yeung's field of view before Yeung even had time to holler "Holy Crap!"

The old Crane assassin ran wide circles around the hapless teen, circles that were contracting as the master killer moved in ever closer for the king of all outfights. Finally, once Toa had inched in close enough, he began to rain down strikes that harkened to what one would surely describe as metallic lightning.

All around Yeung, palm strikes wailed on him with the ferocity of a pack of hyenas. Every time a blow would land on him, it would push him into yet another blow. Altogether, it would by no means be an exaggeration to say that within the timeframe of only a few seconds, Yeung had been struck well over a thousand times. With Toa, it was just like it was in the desert with the felosa raptors; that is, Yeung found himself trapped in the maelstrom of a wolf-gang attack, only this time as opposed to being pounded on by five separate adversaries, all of the carnage was being brought to bear against him by one man. What was really amazing is that in all this seeming seriousness on Mercenary Toa's part, the old hit man was really only hitting Yeung with the equivalent of kid gloves. Had he wanted to, the elder killer could have butchered Yeung ten times before the boy had a chance to hit the ground dead.

Again, the old assassin pressed his advantage and inched in even closer to his new student. Once beyond the distance threshold, Toa began to mix in ever more jarring combinations that now included the use of elbows and hooks. The combinations left Yeung's small body being slung to and fro about the whirlwind of torture like a fleshy pinball.

At last, after barely thirty seconds, seconds that to Yeung seemed to last for an eternity, Toa decided to end his wolf-gang assault with a vicious roundhouse kick that sent Yeung sprawling fifteen, thirty, forty feet, right into a light post. A sickening scream could be heard as the metal that made up the body of the light post formed a U-shape around Yeung's body.

"OH MY GOD!" Den Sum ran up beside Yeung and reached down to check if his senior was conscious. Suddenly, Yeung's arm reached up and batted Den Sums' hand away. After which, Den Sum felt himself being jerked down by the shirt collar until he was eye level with the downed Yeung.

Yeung looked at the small child with a sneer that could have easily burned through lead. His face and eyes were black and blue and when Den Sum looked close enough he could see that a couple of Yeung's teeth had been knocked out.

"Kid…,"Yeung started gruffly, "Don't you ever, ever even attempt to help me again!"

Just then, Yeung slung the small boy to the ground as if the boy were a twig, and stood up. The teen warrior settled into a stance and closed his eyes. Under the current circumstances, this would very well constitute madness, except for this case something else was in the works.

Toa smiled broadly at his new student before saying, "I'll give you credit boy. You're determined. That and you seem to have a heightened resistance to pain. Most warriors at your level would have passed out from sheer agony. You did well to brave the first storm, but don't let that go to your head! I said earlier that we were going to fight until you passed out!"

With that, the Crane assassin settled into yet another stance; this one with a high center of gravity.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"ARAUGH!! GET ME ANOTHER CHALLENGER!" Hard Copper brought his massive foot down on the tiled floor of the arena with such force that a dust devil was kicked up from the escaping air. This produced the surreal effect that just screamed 'power.'

For the past four days since announcing his intentions to enter the National Budokai, the dreaded Mountain King had been pounding all manner of challengers to his supremacy into the dirt, among them being a boy named Rolo Yeung. When the Mountain King recently learned of the boy's own plans to compete, he instantly became ecstatic. The ferocity of Hard Copper's 'training' increased dramatically, and for Hard Copper, training usually entailed beating the shit out of anyone he could get to challenge him. Just the thought of once again casting asunder the one fighter who had ever put up half a struggle against him left goose bumps on Hard Copper's rigid flesh. However, until his next fight with Yeung arrives, he would just have to make due with pulverizing whoever he could get a hold of.

"Hey you!" Hard Copper pointed to a karate blackbelt who had registered earlier for a shot at the regional champ.

"Yeah! That's right! You!" continued the giant, "I called the hospital ahead of time! Don't worry! Our country has Universal Healthcare! Get your ass down here and prepare to visit the emergency room!"

The karate master started to get nervous very quickly and began to walk out of the dojo.

"What's the matter you cowards!?" the mountain ruler boomed, "Are you all too scared to face the only true warrior left on Earth?! Fight me as a group then!"

Almost as if on cue, every pro fighter that had registered that day for a shot at Hard Copper filed into the arena to face the titan of terror. There they were: Mongolian Wrestling Champs, boxing champions of every division, grapplers, Kung Fu masters of every conceivable style, Karate masters, Tai Kwan Do champions, Mui Thai fighters, etc; all of them gathered together in one arena surrounding the nine-time National Budokai Champion, all of them thirsting to make Hard Copper realize that he was as mortal as they were.

"Hmm…, it seems having you all confront me at once has stiffened your spines." Hard Copper grinned viciously before getting into a fighting stance for yet another hour of fun and adventure. From all sides, the whole slew of them came screaming at Hard Copper in a great impending rush of human flesh. Every one of them was confident that this was the day they would finally get to make a believer out of the wily tribesman.

Just as they were about to butt heads with the mountain ruler, Hard Copper reached down and yanked one of the smaller challengers into the air like a paper sack. The mountain king smiled grotesquely as he began to brandish his smaller adversary like a ball and chain. To say that the army of martial artists didn't know what hit them would be an understatement.

Crippled bodies flew this way and that as the monster Indian swung the hapless fighter unfortunate enough to be caught in his mitts. All around Hard Copper's coliseum, the sickening sound of flesh and bone striking flesh and bone could be heard.

By the time the remaining challengers realized what was happening, only a few of them were left standing. Bodies, blood, urine, and chunks of human flesh were strung out all across Hard Copper's iconic battle ring, making it look as if it came right out of the pages of some grotesque dystopian science fiction film.

As for the one fighter whom Hard Copper had used as a human battle club, one could hardly tell what was now left of him had even been a person at all. All that remained of the unfortunate challenger was a bloody torso devoid of arms and a head attached to a pair of broken legs that dangled wetly from the giant's iron grasp.

A look of sheer terror found its way onto the faces of the remaining fighters as Hard Copper closed in on them. One of the remaining challengers, a kung fu fighter who looked to be in his early twenties, dropped to his knees and began to beg the giant for his life.

"Oh God! Please don't hurt me!" begged the challenger. The terrified fighter gripped onto one of Hard Copper's boots and began to sob pitifully.

The massive Native American sneered in disgust at the hapless challenger who now wept at his feet. Growing angry, he drew back his right foot and kicked the poor man right in the face. This sent the smaller challenger flying right into a support column just outside the ring.

By this time Hard Copper's remaining challengers had had enough. One after another, they took to their heels and dashed out the front door as if they were on fire.

Frustrated by this, the Mountain King heaved with a deep sigh of disappointment. The powerful fighter sauntered over to the edge of the ring and plopped down on one of the benches on the front row. Due to the man's sheer size, the adult-sized bleachers seemed as if they were made for children. Here, Hard Copper sat, brooded, while taking a moment to look around at his coliseum.

For over thirty years, Hard Copper had fought full contact in this very arena. For thirty years he had defeated literally thousands of men who called themselves fighters, and for just as long he had dominated every tournament on the continent. Now, in his late fifties, the great warrior found himself at a crossroads in his long career. The number of times he had ever really had to 'try' in a fight he could count on one hand. He had never truly had to retain his title as National Budokai Champion, and because of this, he found himself short on inspiration. All of that changed however, when a certain young fighter came onto the scene…

That young fighter, whose name Hard Copper afterwards learned to be Master Rolo Yeung, came to challenge the nine-time National Champ to a fight of near-epic proportions. The boy fought at a level far above anything Hard Copper had ever before encountered, and that very tenacity had rekindled an old flame inside of an old warrior. Now, he had to get stronger! He had to be that unmovable object in the path of the unstoppable!

"These trivial circus fights are never gonna help me progress!" mussed Hard Copper. "There was a time long ago when I could count on baptism-by-fire to carry me through to the next level, but that time has long past."

Lost in thought, the mountain king just stood there and looked down upon the carnage that littered his ring. In his berserker state he had slain at least ten of his challengers that day, yet such was to be expected from a man who saw his training as a war in itself. Every war has its casualties.

"I have to get stronger!" The behemoth mountaineer turned to leave the arena much the way a tornado leaves a disaster site. "I must get stronger! He'd do it!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile just outside the Crane Dojo, Rolo Yeung continued to fight a hopeless exhibition fight against a far more powerful and experienced Mercenary Toa. In the sky above, twilight had settled and the sun was beginning to set behind the trees.

For over eighteen hours the teen warrior had been throwing anything and everything short of the kitchen sink to secure a solid blow on the Crane Master, and every time it seemed that he was going to even touch the old killer, he found himself getting knocked senseless, tripped up, or just plain humiliated and hazed. Yeung had long since run out of steam and it looked as if Mercenary Toa hadn't even come close to breaking a sweat. To top it all off, every part of him ached as if liquid pain had seeped into every pour on his skin, and his eyes were puffed up like muffins.

"As I said this morning boy…," began Toa, "We can go at it all day and you still would never get anywhere near laying a hand on me! I do believe that it is now pointless to argue the fact."

However, Toa's words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Yeung staggered about in a state of light-headed exhaustion with his hands held out as if he were trying to feel his way back into the fight.

"H-had enough, o-o-old man?" Suddenly, the youth fell on his face seemingly out cold.

"Is it over yet?" asked Den Sum.

"Yeah, I think it's over," replied Toa. Normally, Mercenary Toa didn't praise people on shit. However, in Yeung's case, he had to grudgingly accept facts. Before him was a true unrefined prodigy. A potential warrior who albeit clumsy and pig-headed, possessed an iron will, mindset, and resistance to pain that was uncanny. Given the boy's level of strength, he had lasted longer than Goku could have ever hoped to at the time of their first fight so long ago.

Believing it was over, Mercenary Toa walked over to where Yeung lay passed out, and just as the elder assassin bent down to pick up his charge, Yeung's body twitched.

"Huh!?" Toa stepped back reflexively. Once again, Toa had to make an effort to hide his apparent shock that Yeung had somehow found the heart to move. When the boy turned his head to the side, Toa could see that the puss sacs around Yeung's eyes had busted leaving a puddle of blood and sour smelling fluid where the kid's head had hit the ground. Then, much to Toa's amazement, Yeung shifted his weight and began to pick himself out of the dirt.

"Look boy!" shouted Toa sternly, "This has gone far enough! It's just a test fight! You can't just hurt yourself before we even start your training!"

"I ain't gonna quit," wheezed the boy, "Not until I hit you."

All of a sudden, Toa Pai Pai rushed forward and snatched Yeung's wrist. "Sorry. I have to end this before you hurt yourself anymore than you already have!" Next, the old assassin reached down and tapped a spot on Yeung's wrist.

Within seconds a vague feeling of numbness spread throughout Yeung's body. His legs began to buckle, and he fell into his sensei's steadying hold. The world around him began to contort, and finally blackness claimed him.

With a heave, Toa shrugged the unconscious teen over his right shoulder and carried him back inside, all the while being closely followed by his other new student Den Sum.

"Holy Cow! That was _the_ coolest fight ever!" shouted Den Sum ecstatically, "My friends at school are never gonna believe me when I tell em! Sweet Jesus!"

Toa looked over at his prospective pupil. "Den Sum! Your own real training starts tomorrow. Go home and get some rest! I expect you here at 8:00 A.M. sharp!"

"Uhh…Yes Sir!" The small boy gave a crisp salute to the old cyborg before rushing out the door.

Toa lay Yeung on the couch and started towards the bathroom to get some iodine. Before doing so however, he bent down and inspected his charge. Most of Yeung's wounds seemed superficial and his breathing remained steady so Toa thought nothing more. The boy was a trooper through and through.

A wry smile found its way onto Toa's face. There was hope for the Crane Dojo. A child shall lead the way.

Power Levels:

Rolo Yeung: 120

Mercenary Toa: 180

Hard Copper: 147

Author's Note: For those of you who are wondering, the protagonist Yeung, is an antihero. The antagonist, Hard Copper, is somewhere between a shade of gray and a bonafied anti-villain. The role of Hard Copper as an antagonist is something akin to that of a dark sage: That being, his method of advancing his idea of how life as a warrior should be lived is by hurting people. As such, his philosophy in life is 'Not everyone who helps you is looking out for your best interests, and not everyone who hurts you is doing it for completely selfish means." Nonetheless dear readers, keep in mind that the antagonist in this story is still a vicious killer. Some of the worst things are often done with the best of intentions.


	12. Locomotion

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball, DragonBall Z, or any of the characters therein. These anime are the exclusive property of the esteemed Akira Toriyama. However, Rolo Yeung, Den-Sum, Hard Copper, and Fein are my property so hands off!

Chapter 12: Locomotion

"Uhgg…"

"He's finally awake!" shouted a youth's voice.

"It's about damned time!" ranted a second voice, this one being one of an older male.

"How long was I out?" asked Yeung, his throat hoarse with swelling.

"Two days," said Toa Pai-Pai, "That's two days that could have been better spent training."

"Come on old-timer! Gimme a break!" shouted Yeung. The noise however made his head pound like someone had a bass guitar playing inside his skull.

"Don't get me wrong boy," said the old mercenary, "I was impressed by your toughness and all, but let's face facts! I could have been using these last two days either promoting the school, or helping Den-sum here get into his routine."

"Other students…?"

"Yes, 4 other students," repeated Toa. "While you were out cold, we had three new students join our dojo."

"Surely you didn't put them through the same crap as me!?" asked Yeung worriedly.

"Not really. Some of the folks took one look at me and ran away pissing themselves. "

"You know old-timer…," began Yeung, "You need to work on your people skills."

A shit-eating grin found its way onto the old mercenary's face. "Hai, but then it wouldn't be fun now would it?"

"You're scaring me…" said Yeung slowly scooting away.

"I try."

"Ok, just who are these three new members?"

"Actually, four," explained the old assassin, "One of my former pupils by the name of Choatzu is being hired on as an assistant teacher. His training was completed years ago. The other three are fresh meat. Treat them _gently_."

Just then, they heard a knock on the door.

"That's probably one of them now," said Toa, "Den-sum, go answer the door."

"Hai!" Den-Sum opened the door and found himself face-to-face with his own worst nightmare. Den-Sum cowered backwards, looking as if he were ready to die of fright.

At the door was a large chunky boy at least a head taller than he. He had large man-sized forearms and a roundish, jar-shaped head. Despite the size gap, the kid himself looked to be little more than Den-Sum's age. This particular boy had a bad reputation for being a bully at Den-Sum's elementary school.

"Heh! It's the big-wheel bitch!" chided the newcomer. "I didn't know they were hiring towel boys!"

Den-Sum shook with terror. "Uhhh… hi Xin!" greeted Den-Sum half-heartedly. "W-why are y-you here?"

"This is the new karate studio isn't it?"

"Umm…yeah, but it's not open," lied Den-Sum.

"Then why were you even inside?" asked Xin. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to give me the big blow-off." The large boy named Xin began to crack his knuckles in a threatening manner just before jerking Den-Sum off the ground by his gi collar.

"Master!" whined Den-Sum.

Just then, Mercenary Toa stepped out the door. "What's going on!?"

One look at Mercenary Toa was all it took to coax Xin into dropping Den-Sum. Xin stepped back in mortal terror and bowed his head at the old assassin.

"Teacher, I'm here," said the bulky kid.

"It's about damned time!" Toa nagged. "Where are the other two?"

"They said they'd be here," said Xin.

Toa Pai-Pai began to frown and jabbed his index finger in the larger boy's face. "Well they had better! It's summer vacation for crying out loud! There aren't any kids I know of who are in school at this time. I won't tolerate lateness! We discussed my tardiness policy yesterday. Along with missing any payments, if any of you miss any more than three of my sessions, I'll drop your asses like a rock!"

Xin swallowed hard and shuffled into the dojo behind Den-Sum.

Toa brought his hand up to his mouth and hollered into the building. "AND NO HAZING THE OTHER STUDENTS!"

Mercenary Toa was just about to shut the door when two other kids ran up to the front door. The first one was a portly boy who wore speckled glasses. In all, he looked like a stereotypical computer nerd. The second was an average-built boy who looked as if he had just walked out of some religious ceremony.

"Sorry we're late," said the first kid. "My family had some friends over for breakfast and I had to slip away."

Toa accepted this and looked over at the other new initiate. The second kid looked a little uneasy under the cyborg mercenary's stone-cold glare. "And what is you story?"

"I help my grandfather run a Confucian Temple,"explained the boy. "Venerable Gramps won't let me leave until my chores are finished."

"Next time you will finish them faster!" warned Toa. "If you want sympathy from me, look it up in the dictionary between shit and syphilis!" Just then, the fat kid raised his hand.

"Yes, what is it?!" demanded Toa irritably.

"What's syphilis?"

"I'll tell you when you older!" snapped Toa. "Now come on! Before we delegate training sessions, we've got to host member orientation. Follow me into my office."

The two new kids followed Mercenary Toa inside. Inside, they met up with the other new students.

"Hey!" said the fat kid pointing at Xin, "I remember seeing you in my school. You're in my PE class."

"Very astute Sherlock Shithead!" said Xin in a smart-mouthed tone. "If I remember correctly, I stole your lunch money! What was your name again?"

"Uh.., Gen Si Twan, and this here is my friend Kato Noranuga."

The large boy then began to laugh monotonously. "He looks like an even bigger pussy than you! What's with that silly dress he's wearing?! Are you and him bumping bunnies?"

The boy in the ceremonial robe grabbed Xin by the shirt collar and began shaking his fist at him in a threatening manner. "Err.., hey pal! I'm five seconds away from cutting you into one hundred and eighty-five pieces and mailing a piece to each country! Now back the hell off!"

"You little snots break it up!" Mercenary Toa stepped in between the two bickering youths and pried Kato from Xin.

"I'll say it one more time!" warned the former killer. "Hazing and horseplay won't be tolerated in this establishment! If you all want to kill each other, wait until after today's sessions are over.

Xin grinned mischievously at Den-Sum, Gen, and Kato. "Just wait until the end of the day. I'm gonna murder all of you and then we'll see who's on the top of the food chain!"

"Excuse me." Mercenary Toa motioned the boys into his office.

"Please…," said Toa Pai-Pai cordially, "Everyone take a seat."

All four boys made themselves comfortable and listened intently to what their new martial arts instructor had to say. Lying down on a cot in a corner behind the desk was a mutilated Yeung whose whole upper body was covered in bandaging.

"Eiiii!!" screeched Gen. The other boys slowly backed away towards the door.

"Oh, May I introduce another of my new students," Toa gestured his hand towards Yeung. "This is Rolo Yeung and I am pleased to inform you that he _will_ be our schools' representative in the upcoming National Tenkaichi."

"I don't see how some burnt-out, busted up midget can be our representative," said Xin. "He's only a foot taller than me. If he's a new student like the rest of us, then what can he do?"

"Don't count him short Xin!" said Den-Sum. "If you had seen him in action when he fought Teacher here, you'd be singing a different tune!"

Just then, Rolo Yeung began to shift. "I'm awake you know."

Xin was a little taken back by this. "I don't care. You're just a stupid midget all the same!"

"OK," began Toa. "As you all know, basic training sessions will be held six days a week. You will all receive a complimentary fighting gi hosting the Tsurusinnin Dojo insignia. They are covered by your monthly fees. Wear them proudly. Along with them, you will also be provided lockers. Collect your keys at the end of orientation. Also, there will be various fundraisers. Attendance is mandatory for basic members. Due to Yeung's representative status in the upcoming tournament and because Yeung has a lifetime membership with the Tsursinnin Dojo, he will be exempt from attendance."

"Also…," added Toa, "There is an upcoming festival in town called the Magnolia God Festival. It will provide ample opportunity to build our school's profile. Lastly, there is the issue of paying for training equipment. The cost of sparring dummies will not be covered by your monthly payments. Those will be covered by whatever money you earn in future tournaments as well as prize fights."

"You mean we can't keep the winnings for ourselves!" Xin looked as if he were going to cry. "Bummer man!"

"What's good for the gander is good for the goose," said Toa. "That raps up orientation. You will all spend the rest of the day in the sparring room doing floor exercises."

"WHAT!?" cried Gen.

"Let's face it!" said Toa, "You're fat and slow. I'm putting you on a diet starting today!"

"What's a matter fat-ass?" jibbed Xin. Xin chuckled loudly much to the other boys' chagrin.

"I-I can't go on a diet!" squalled Gen. "And what about my asthma?"

"Get a breathalyzer and deal with it," harped Toa.

Just then, a knock on the front door was heard.

"Den-Sum, get the door."

Opening the door, the small boy found himself confronted by two of the strangest people he had ever laid eyes on. The first one was a large bald man who must of stood close to seven feet tall. He wore green baggy pants and a white shirt that, like his, bore the symbol of the Crane Dojo. That however, was not what set him apart as strange. Situated in the center of his forehead was a third eye. The second character wasn't any less peculiar looking. He was ridiculously short, no more than three feet tall, and had white skin. No, not just pale skin! Literally, snow-white.

It took Den-Sum a moment to find the courage to say anything, but before he could even speak, the large three-eyed man began.

"Umm.. excuse me. I'm looking for someone named Rolo Yeung. I have something for him."

"Uhh…, right this way sir!" Den-Sum led the two strangers into the office where a worse-for-wear Yeung lay on a cot with Mercenary Toa standing over him.

"Tien! What brings you back here?" asked Toa. "You weren't due to check on the boys' progress for at least a few months."

"I've come to deliver something that might aid Yeung in his training."

"Not that it will help," said Yeung sarcastically.

The look Tien gave Yeung at that moment seemed to scream 'What the hell?!' all by itself.

"Don't say a word," muttered the teen.

"No, seriously kid!" began Tien, "What I'm about to give you will boost your training significantly."

Tien then reached into his gi and pulled out a paper sack. He then reached inside and brought forth a small, green bean.

"A _bean_…," Yeung starred at Tien as if the triclops had lost all his marbles.

"You came all the way to my dojo just to joke around?!" asked Toa incredulously.

"Trust me," said Tien tossing the bean to Yeung. "Just eat it."

Yeung slipped the vegetable into his mouth and bit down _hard_… So hard in fact that he felt as if he were chewing on a lump of charcoal.

"Wow! Talk about hard candy," said Yeung.

"You get used to it," replied Tien. "Now swallow."

Yeung did as he was told and within seconds, he felt a strange uplifting sensation spread from his head to his toes. It was as if a special kind of tingly warmth had found its way into his gut.

"Now remove your bandages!" commanded the triclops.

No sooner had Yeung did this did he discover something miraculous.

"MY FACE!" bellowed the youth, for in the mirror he could see that any and all lacerations to his head and torso from his exhibition match with Mercenay Toa had healed.

Speaking of the old killer, upon seeing this, the old man promptly pissed himself.

"It's Incredible! But How!?" asked Yeung pleadingly.

"The secret's in the beans." answered Tien, "And I'm giving this bag to you. Use them sparingly as you train for the upcoming tournament."

"Holy shit!" blurted Toa, "Well. What are we waiting for?! We got a tournament coming up!"

"Yeah! Let's do this!" Yeung slipped into his training gear and started out the door. However, before he got very far he was stopped by Toa Pai-Pai.

"Hold it kid!" ordered Toa.

"What's wrong old-timer?"

"Before we do anything, we have to establish some kind of dietary program for your training. Come with me."

Yeung followed Mercenary Toa into the dojo locker room as did Tien and Choatzu. Tien couldn't help but reminisce on bygone feelings from a bygone age.

"This takes me back a ways. I see you've still got the same old lockers."

"This is a pretty conservative dojo," muttered Toa, "If it isn't broke, don't buy a new one."

"What's that from? The 1940s?" joked Yeung.

"Hmm, more like the 30's," replied the killer. "Ah, here we are."

The four of them arrived at a locker marked "secret stuff" that was situated at the far end of the room. Toa reached into his provincial gi's pocket and pulled out a rusty old key which he used to open the said locker. With a rusty "screech," the locker door came undone.

Upon opening the locker, Mercenary Toa's face was assaulted by a flock of moths as dusty old cobwebs were pulled loose.

"I haven't had to use this mess in over thirty years," said Toa. The old killer pulled out a syringe and several bottles marked as "biohazard."

"What is it?" asked Tien.

Mercenary Toa smiled wickedly as he uncorked one of the bottles and dipped the syringe into whatever fluid was contained therein.

"This Tien is concentrated human growth hormone."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Yeung snapped. "I am not that short!"

"Look you little pissant!" began Toa, "You're reach isn't enough to allow you to go toe-to-toe in the fight I'm preparing you for! Hard Copper's punch has a six foot span for crying out loud! What's your reach? I'll be surprised if your punch has a two foot range!"

"Besides," continued Toa. "You're at the start of your teen years, and this may be the last chance you'll have to avoid being a dwarf for the rest of your life. You'll never be able to make full use of your training unless you grow a foot or two."

For a moment, it had become so silent that one could hear a pin drop. Yeung however, had become like a volcano ready to erupt.

"_Well _…, excuse me!" Yeung said crossing his arms, "I was under the impression that I had done pretty damned good considering…"

"_Apparently_, you've been fighting second-rate slobs since leaving your first school," said Toa, "What's a matter? Ran out of competition!?"

"Whatever, just pop me with the damned needle!" Yeung balled his right hand into a fist and held out his arm. Toa began to examine the arm for a vein before inserting the syringe.

"You will take 300 grams of concentrated human growth hormone three times daily until the tournament begins," Toa explained. "On top of this, you will be receiving a vast array of experimental vitamins that, although technically legal, are still only one committee hearing away from being relegated to the no-no list."

"Whatever happened to all that 'redeem the school' talk?" asked Tien.

"At least we're not breaking the law," Toa replied. "That in itself _is_ redemption."

"Good point."

Toa then turned to Yeung before continuing. "Alright lad! Let's head to the beach!"

"The beach?" Yeung cocked an eyebrow at the former assassin.

"That is where your first training exercise will take place."

An hour later, Yeung and the others arrived at the local lake. The beach encompassed the entire southern half and extended into some local crowded camping grounds just beneath the distant foothills.

"Alright, here we are!" announced Toa, "This is the ideal environment for your first training exercise."

"OK! So what to I do?" Yeung asked.

"You swim."

For a few moments, Yeung, Tien, and Choatzu just stood there staring at the old Crane assassin as if he were wearing a pink ballerina to-to.

"Say what again?"

"Allow me to demonstrate." Mercenary Toa began to strip his provincial fighting sash and shoes until he was wearing only his fighting pants.

To Yeung, Mercenary Toa looked like one of those half man/half machines out of some sci-fi film. Whatever wasn't covered in prosthetics was etched in a mishmash of faint and not-so-faint scarring. For Tien, this was the first time he had ever seen the full extent of the injuries his former sefu had suffered from battle with Son Goku many years past.

"Now pay close attention."

All of a sudden, Toa dived headfirst into one of the beach's many sand dunes. Sand and rocks were thrown up as the old assassin literally glided through the grainy earth.

Yeungs' jaw hit the floor with astonishment at what would in any normal world be considered a violation of the laws of physics. And just as he thought Mercenary Toa couldn't get any more amazing, the old assassin leaped from the sand as a dolphin would leap from the ocean.

The sunlight gleaming on his prosthetic limbs, the former killer swayed ever which way in the air until finally landing right where he started his little demonstration.

"B-b-b-but how!?" stammered Yeung. Before the boy could inquire any further, Toa raised his hand to silence him.

"One answer," explained Toa, "Flood Rush!"

"Flood Rush!?" repeated Tien. "That's a new one."

"Yes it is," said Toa. "I discovered this little technique while in exile following my body's reconstruction. It's something that even my brother never saw in his lifetime."

"Care telling me how it works?" asked Yeung.

"Certainly," answered Toa. "However, before I do, I must tell you that you'll have to discover the secret of this technique on your own, and for two reasons."

"Which are…?"

The old crane killer folded his hands behind his back and turned to stare off into the distance. "One, it's not something that can simply be passed on as if it were the common cold. Second, it will not do for me to just hand you all the answers. How are you going to learn anything if everything is just given to you?"

"OK, so how does it work?" asked Yeung.

"It is a damage modifier," stated Toa, "It relies on a reconfiguring of the histo-compatability process that takes place between the cells in the human skin and muscle fibers. It eliminates drag so that your hands, elbows, and feet can pass through any substance. It eliminates any edge that ki users acquire when they expand their ki inside their bodies as a defensive move. The increase in damage from a rigid strike can be increased by as much as 10% through the application of this principle."

"And you discovered this secret on your own?" asked Tien.

"Yes," said Toa, "By studying marine biology, I discovered a natural adaptation among dolphins that can be turned into a martial arts style. It is the ultimate in soft styles, and my answer to Muten Roshis' turtle style should I ever face it again."

"Aside from strikes, can this Flood Rush be adapted to ki waves?" asked Tien.

"That, Tien, I cannot say. All I can tell you is that the Flood Rush which I have dubbed the 'Toa Variation' is the very antithesis of hard styles. It's my lifes' contribution to the Crane school."

The old killer then turned to Yeung. "Boy, you will train here four hours every day until you discover this secret for yourself. Swim through any and all substances until your body's failsafe finally gives way to the Flood Rush."

"Right!" stated the boy with enthusiasm.

"Yeung."

The boy turned to Tien in anticipation.

"If you can complete your training under Toa by the start of the upcoming tournament, I promise that I will train you personally in my style once the tournament is over."

"Wait a minute!" commanded Yeung, "If Toa Pai-Pai taught you how to fight, then what can you the student, offer me?"

"I have a special style that I was taught years after I left the Crane School," answered Tien. "I did promise to train you myself."

With that, Tien turned to Choatzu. "Choatzu, help Toa supervise the training of his new students as best you can. It will help give him more time to work with Yeung."

"Hai!" The little white eternal child bowed his head to his longtime triclops friend. Tien waved goodbye to everyone before lifting off into the sky.

"Come on Choatzu!" ordered Toa. "Let's leave the runt to toy with what he has learned." Finally, the assassin and the little white dwarf walked off and Yeung was left to train himself with the newfound principle on his mind.

"_OoooK_…!" said Yeung, "How did the old man do this again?"

Elsewhere, another someone was going through his own rounds….

"That's right Fein!" yelled Yamucha, "You got it! Put some effort into it."

"Hold it man!" shouted Fein. "I gotta tie my shoes!"

For the past two days, Yamucha and Master Roshi had been introducing Fein to the coveted Turtle Style and its' odd training methodology. This included such things as delivering milk, dodging hornets while tied to a tree, swimming in shark-infested lagoons, and doing construction work all while having a hefty turtle shell strapped to his back. As off now, Fein was in the middle of his morning milk deliveries.

Fein skipped like a little school girl as he followed Yamacha and Roshi while they zigzagged through a row of trees.

"Come-on young'n!" snapped Roshi, "There'll be plenty of time to scratch your ass when this first exercise is over! Skip! Skip!"

Fein stumbled as he tripped over a cobble stone, nearly dropping the box of milk in the process.

"T-there h-has got to b-b-be a better way to d-develop endurance t-than this!" mumbled Fein.

"You're the one who wanted to train with me!" said Roshi, "I myself would rather be watching my aerobics shows."

Just the image of the skinny old letch scanning young girls made the young fighter want to lurch. It took his mind off the task at hand just long enough for him to let one bottle slip away from him.

"Whoa-woah! OK!" yelped the lanky teen. Fein tried desperately to catch the bottle only to have it slip through his fingers. Upon hitting the ground, the bottle of milk shattered.

Once Yamucha and Master Roshi realized that their protégée was no longer behind them, the two doubled back.

"Damnit kid!" shouted Yamucha.

"We gotta pay for every single milk bottle you drop," warned Roshi. "That's coming outta your tournament winnings."

"I know! I know!" said Fein defensively. The boy hefted the box of milk bottles into his arms and resumed following his two teachers.

In another part of the world, the Mountain King, Hard Copper, continued his own unorthodox training style….

The Native Indian behemoth settled on some railroad tracks and dug his heels in. He spread his tree trunk-sized legs wide as he lowered into a defensive stance.

On a high bluff about a mile away, a locomotive loaded with bauxite ore revved its' powerful diesel engines. Metal grinded and squealed as the train's brake struggled to secure the massive load. Suddenly, one of the trains' conductors stuck his head out the left driver's side window.

"Alright Copper! We're ready when you are!" hollered the conductor.

"Alright Joe! Let'er rip!" replied Hard Copper.

The train operators fastened themselves in and poured on the steam. At the last moment, the lead conductor released the brake.

Suddenly, the whole locomotive craned and buckled as two thousand pounds of metal, fuel, and ore dipped slowly over the hillside beginning on a downward slide. All of this was locked on a collision course where the Mountain King was currently waiting.

'_Alright,_' thought the giant, '_This is where we separate the men from the boys…_'

The train and all its' cargo gradually picked up speed as it careened down the hillside. Sparks flew from the wheels as the massive machine leveled out.

Inside the engine car, the crewmen deliberated over their next course of action.

"OK, this is it!" said the lead conductor. "Either we pour on the coal now and plow through Hard Copper, or we stop the train and Hard Copper kills us for not doing as we're told."

"Didn't give us a hell of a lot of options did he?"

"No," answered the lead conductor. "However, he'll play soccer with our skulls if we don't hit him with everything we've got!" The conductor buckled himself in and pulled another lever.

The train continued to pick up speed as it rapidly approached the copper-skinned megalith. Finally, the train collided head-on with HC. The sound produced by the collision was akin to a car wreck as the front of the locomotive folded like wet paper against the iron-hard body of the giant warrior.

Still, the locomotive's power did not completely loose out. In front of the train, rail ties and lines gave way as a deep trench was gouged from the hillside as Hard Copper dug his heels in. Ugly scars began to take shape in the front plow as his fingers warped the cast iron plating.

Inside the engine cabin, pandemonium was breaking loose.

"THERE GOES AOTHER ONE!" shouted the assistant conductor as yet another steam line burst. Screws, nuts, and shrapnel flew ever which way as the guts of the engine car came apart at the seams.

"Do not abandon your post man!" ordered his superior. "Hard Copper has done this before! Keep pilling on the diesel and let'er roar!"

"Pile on the diesel!" repeated the panicked crewman. "With what!? My farts! This things nearly through! ABANDON SHIP!" In his excited state, the assistant conductor leaped from the cabin only to run head-on into a tree.

The engine itself tipped onto its' side as it forced Hard Copper down into a ravine. In moments, the engine car burst into flames and forced the giant back further until finally, the freight cars began to roll over what was left of the engine, crushing the trapped conductor.

In all this commotion, Hard Copper's massive form was hurled like a sack of potatoes and slung under the still moving freight cars. The loaded cars continued on their trajectory until at last, they crashed into a distant gulch.

Miraculously, even after all that, Hard Copper managed to lift himself from the dirt. A twisted smile found itself onto the craggy face of the super-sized Native American. In a mad frenzy, the tall tribesman arched backwards and began to scream and laugh wildly into the air like a rabid dog.

"My iron-hard body can never be destroyed!" shouted the giant. "I will once again win the tournament! That boy _will_ meet his end!"

Power Levels:

Average Adult Human: 5

Rolo Yeung: 125

Fein: 85

Hard Copper: 160

Den-Sum: 1.5

Gen Si Kwan: 2

Xin: 3.5

Kato Noranuga: 3.9

Author's Note: I'm getting tired of guessing the power levels of the actual Dragonball characters designed by Akira Toriama. They stopped showing power levels after the Frieza Saga. As such, from here on out I will only be recording the power levels of my original characters.


	13. Baptism by Fire and Water

Disclaimer:

Chapter 13: Baptism by Water and Fire

For over a month Toa had been baptizing Yeung in the fires of the Crane Style of Kenpo. Each day, he pushed the boy harder and every day Yeung struggled to keep up. Every day, he put the boy to the test, and each day in turn Yeung fought on.

"Get up boy!" yelled Toa.

"I'm going! I'm going!" shouted Yeung. Yeung tried desperately to keep up as Toa had him running laps in water up to his waist. To top it off, the sandy bottom provided suction that slowed Yeung down considerably and forced his lower body to adapt to drag.

As the day progressed, Yeung would find himself locked in a hyperbaric chamber submerged at the bottom of the lake.

With the weight of both air and water crashing down on him, his mind succumbed to a dream-like, half-conscious state. It was this state that was meant to draw on the young adolescents' untapped mental capacities.

Later, Yeung would have his focus trained in the assassin hall. Wooden exercise dummies were marked to display the location of acupressure points both vital and non-vital alike.

"Alright," said Toa "Think of nothing else! Concentrate! Remember the state of knowing but not knowing!"

Like an arrow straight and true, Yeung dived and dipped between the mannequins, his hands and fingers repeatedly, though sloppily, finding their mark. Severed heads, limbs, and splinters flew to and fro from dummies that had the dexterity of live targets. When in this room, all things had a tendency to go in slow motion.

In the late afternoon, Toa would spar with Yeung mercilessly until the boy literally had to be brought back from the brink with a sensu bean. And then, his inoculation into Tsuru form would continue further.

"Erahhh…Get up!" Toa reached down and roughly jerked Yeung off the asphalt by the scruff of his neck.

Every other day, Yeung would be taken out into the foothills to be trained in the art of the wave.

"THAT'S IT KID!" hollered Toa, "PULL IT TOGETHER!"

Trees and landscape alike were bowled over as air currents laced with fighting spirit and sharp as daggers danced around the aspiring student. The air became superheated which gave rise to wild fires and mists.

And then there would still be other times in which Toa would put Yeung's adaptive capacities to the test in ways that became ever more outlandish…

"If I can walk on water, than so can you!" hollered Mercenary Toa. "Concentrate! Use your baku-jutsu! Manipulate the surface abrasion of your heal-skins! Dig deep maggot!"

Yeung did as he was told as best he could. Nonetheless, his efforts to stand, let alone walk on water, proved to be less than graceful for the boy soon found himself struggling to stay above water.

"You suck!" yelled Toa. "Forget flying! You gotta know how to swim in water before I can teach you how to walk on it."

There were some days on which Yeung would deliberately be drugged into a near-death experience for the sake of finding the other 90 percent of his brains' cognitive powers. Latched to an operating table deep beneath the compound, he would lay there as IV bags full of glucosamine, morphines, and pig steroids were pumped directly into his bloodstream.

This part of the training however, was kept secret from the other students who were being drilled by Choatzu….

"You kids have two more weeks until your summer vacation is over!" squealed the small Choatzu. "And we're gonna make use of every minute we can until your next semester starts! Don't give up! You can do it!"

"How many more of these damned flutter kicks do we godda do?" prodded Xin between breaths. "These exercises are so grab-assed gay!"

"Stop your damned complaining Gorilla Biscuit!" commanded Kato.

"What'd you say fruity-ass?!"

"Err..STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!"

Just then, Mercenary Toa entered the room. The four boys picked themselves off the floor and knelt down out of respect.

Toa waited until everything was quiet before beginning. "Today I have a special test for all of you!"

"What kind of a test?"

"I will be taking you all into the mountains on a camping trip," droned the old assassin. "However, this isn't going to be no half-assed boy scouts hike! Leave your parents a note or something. Tell them you will be gone a few days."

"Will Choatzu be accompanying us?" asked Den Sum.

"Yes." Toa turned away before continuing. "I'm going to need someone to bring you back alive."

"Uh-oh….," mouth Choatzu. "Considering this is one of your ideas, I don't think the kids are gonna like it."

"Doesn't matter..," said Toa fondling his mustache, "They gotta go through with this part of the program eventually. Might as well get it outta the way while they're still young."

Elsewhere, the days and weeks passed equally fast for Fein as he struggled to keep up with his instructors.

Fein swam as fast as he could to stay ahead of the man-eating shark just as he had for the past six weeks. Every week he pulled ahead of the shark further and every week Master Roshi would add an additional thirty pounds of weight to his turtle shell.

In the late afternoons, Yamacha would have Fein practice the Kame fighting form, a form that had been kept from both Kuriran and Yamacha during their first year of training under Roshi.

"Hexagon Form!" Yamacha commanded, "You've been through this a thousand times so pull your fingers out of your ass and put some effort into it!"

Occasionally, Yamacha would call in Krillain to assist Fein in developing his defense. This experience would prove valuable to Fein as he prepared for his own future battle with Yeung at the Northern Kingdom's National Tenkaichi Tournament. No matter what, Fein would not be blind to Yeung's power for as is the case with Krillain, Yeung was living proof that midgets can bounce right back.

"Come'on kid! I'm not even fightin half-assed! Keep your guard up!" The formerly bald monk again got on the inside and delivered a punishing assault to Fein's torso.

As Krillain stepped out, Fein fell over in a heap of his own blood. This frightened the former monk for Krillain began to panic.

"Oh my God! I hurt him!" shouted Krillain in distress. Suddenly, Roshi came shuffling out of the Kame house, curious to see what all the fuss was about. Following him was Android 18 who had recently begun seeing Krillain.

"Krillain! What's going on?!"

"Master Roshi! It's Fein! Help me get him inside!"

"What happened?!" asked Eighteen. The female cyborg bent down to help Krillain in supporting Fein's neck.

"I'll go get the smelling salts!" said Yamacha.

Within this same timeframe, Hard Copper too was putting his all into retaining his title as the Northern Kingdom's martial arts champion.

Rusty wheels screeched and groaned as the iron-hard mountain lord pushed train car loads of bauxite ore out from the unknown depths of the earth. With each step, stone cracked and rail lines buckled under his fearsome might.

Off to the side, the supervisor who presided over the local mining company was entertaining a cadre of journalists who were clamoring for an interview with the muscled monster.

"PLEASE PEOPLE! ONE AT A TIME! PLLLEEASE!"

"Mr. Siks! As Hard Coppers' self-proclaimed manager, can you comment on Hard Coppers' behalf regarding the rumors concerning Mr. Satans' entering the National Budokai Tournament?"

The old executive rubbed his chin for a moment before responding. "Any and all challengers are welcome to try!"

"Is there some truth to the rumor that Hard Copper privately makes light of Mr. Satans' recent victory over Cell?!"

"I'm not privy as to what rumor it is you're talking about…."

"What is his opinion on the revival of the Tsurusinnin Dojo?!" asked yet a third.

"The Kame School also seems to be entering!" said a forth. "How is Hard Copper going to deal with the prospect of Master Muten Roshi coming out of retirement?!"

"Hmph! At Roshi's age he should be in an obituary!" answered the man. This got a few laughs from the press corp. One of the journalists however decided to push further.

"Don't you think it's bad taste for your client to be parraging the accomplishments of past champions? Sure Hard Copper is strong, but let's face facts here! Hard Copper has never really been in a fight in which he has had to go the distance!"

"Look!" began the wily businessman, "If you're insinuating that my client is a 'protected fighter' as that publicity freak Mr. Satan has suggested, then you got another thing coming to you! Mr. Satan has had every opportunity to schedule a real match with Hard Copper! There is no excuse why the worlds' savior hasn't except that he's scarred shitless! Cell was just some two-bit Youtube clown in a costume who should have got a job in the movie business! The fact that such a half-assed Pre-Madona nearly killed Mr. Satan's top two students just shows how pathetic his dojo really is!"

"But he saved the world!" stated another of the journalists. "Give the man his dos for crying out loud!"

"Whatever…," continued Mr. Siks, "The clown probably staged the Cell Games himself just so he could get famous! HAHAHAHA!"

"Seriously, you can't suggest that…!" began one journalist. However, she was cut off before she could finish.

"What's he gonna do?! Sue me for slander. Don't make me laugh! It's his lawyers versus mine! The fact still remains that this will all be settled in the ring in less than five months! No further comments!"

Days later in the forest adjacent to the Crane Dojo compound, Mercenary Toa, Choatzu, and the four young boy students finally reached their destination.

"Just above us is a waterfall," explained Toa. "You are all still too weak to qualify for the kind of fighting I and Yeung engage in! Because of this, I have conjured up a different test to determine whether or not you are truly ready for the next level of your training!"

The old assassin then turned to the waterfall and looked skyward. "You are all to climb this mountainside! Both I and Choatzu will be waiting at the very top on that ledge just adjacent to the waterfall!"

The Crane killer than turned to the boys once again. "When or if you get there, you will receive your test! Neither Choatzu or myself are allowed to aid or encourage you in any way! All motivation must stem from within! Be warned that if you reach the top, you will not be allowed to back out of the test! You will all have come too far for such discrepancy! All climbing must be done with your bare hands and feet!"

Just then, both Mercenary Toa and Choatzu bounded into the air as if they weighed little more than feathers and landed far up out of sight on the distant ledge.

"I don't care what anybody says!" said Xin. "This is still better than those grab-assed gay floor exercises the mime had us doing!"

"Speak for yourself," replied Gen si. "You're not fat. I got forty pounds of extra cargo on me!"

"Not my fault you didn't take the diet seriously!"

"Let's just get this over with," said Kato. Kato braced himself and latched firmly onto a protruding surface at the base of the cliff.

"Ya know fellas!" began Den Sum. "Sometimes being scrawny has it's advantages."

"So does shutting up, so do it short shit!" retorted Xin.

"You know Xin," started Kato, "When this is all over, I'm gonna glass you!"

"Bring it when you're ready gender-bender!"

Meanwhile, back at the Crane Dojo, Yeung was following the dietary plan specified by Toa Pai-Pai. In the absence of his seifu and the other students, Yeung half-expected to have the dojo to himself so that he could train in private. However, on this day Tien Shinhan was paying a visit to assess Yeungs' progress.

"How can you eat that shit?" asked the triclops. Across from him, Yeung was finishing up his second tub of peanut butter.

"You get used to it," answered the boy between scarves.

Since beginning his training in the Crane style of Baku Jutsu, Yeungs' steroid supplemented program had paid huge dividends. Whereas once was an undersized midget little bigger than Krillain now sat a fair-sized fourteen year old who could have easily tipped the scale at 180 lbs. Yeung had well outgrown the simple training getup he now wore. Monstrous flesh jiggled from even the simple act of eating.

Where once were short, limited arms existed giant-sized behemoths that could have easily been 15 inches in circumference and 25 inches long. His height, where was once a kid of a paltry 4 ft 2 in, now was a frame little over five feet. As for his chest, it looked as if it had been stuffed with cotton. Looking at him from the other side, his back muscles had a spread like a pair of terrapin wings.

"I'm not sure if I agree with Toas' methods," said Tien. "Sure you're stronger but it looks somewhat unnatural, especially for someone your age."

"I know what you mean," replied Yeung setting the empty peanut butter cart aside, "It feels unwholesome."

"Do you think it will affect your speed during the Nationals?" asked Tien.

"Master Toa said that he would work with me in increasing my speed and endurance a few months before the tournament begins," said Yeung. "He just wants to see when this growth spurt will plateau. I think he intends to take me off the growth hormone in another two weeks."

"That's good," stated the triclops. "Four months should give you enough time to get your body ironed out. Having that much bulky muscle mass has to make some aspects of your training more difficult."

"It does slow me down a lot when me and teacher spar," spoke the boy, "Teacher still thinks that there's no way I'm gonna be able to get past the range disparity between me and Hard Copper. It's physically impossible so we're hoping that speed and endurance will carry me through."

"Nonetheless, you're gonna have one hell of a time explaining how you grew that much to the Martial Arts Commission."

"I'll just say that I eat my spinach," said Yeung.

________________________________________________________________________

"We're almost there!" shouted Kato. "Hang in there guys! If we give up now, it's a long drop to the bottom!"

"Oh, thank God!" stated Gen si.

In the ensuing hours since Toa put forward his ultimatum, the four boys had done well in surmounting the jagged cliffside. From the beginning, the smallest among them, Den Sum, had stayed far ahead of the rest of the group in scaling the mountainside and was even now waiting at the top of the waterfall with Mercenary Toa and Choatzu. This was most likely attributable to the fact that the small boy had less weight to carry than the other students. The other three had strayed far behind with the last one Gen si, taking up the rear.

"I help but say it again," said Toa, "I'm surprised you made it up here at all. Despite being the smallest and weakest, you made it to the top first."

"Maybe now the others will respect me more," mused the small kid.

"However…"

Den Sum turned to look up at his master. "However…."

"However, this just means that I need to enforce some standardization on all four of you," continued the aged hit man. "From here on out you will be required to where additional gear so that your body will be just as heavy as that of the others."

"Oh…uh, hmmm….hey look!"

Just then, a pair of small hands reached over the edge of the cliff. Finally, Kato and Xin hefted themselves over the top and onto flat ground followed closely by Gen si.

"It's about time," chided Toa snidely, "You can all learn a thing or two from Den Sum's example. Now all of you follow me."

The four boys scurried after Mercenary Toa with Choatzu following close behind. They soon came upon a rocky overhang that dangled hazardously above the waterfall.

"Now, I want you all to line up right here." Toa motioned toward the said overhang with a wide gesture. The four boys shuffled to comply. From left to right, they all looked worse for wear. Of the four, Gen si looked as if climbing the rock face took the most of him.

"What do we do now Master?" asked Kato.

A sly grin spread across Mercenary Toas' semi-prosthetic face. "Just live…"

The four boys had no warning, no chance to prepare themselves for what happened next. Mercenary Toa fell backwards, and using his arms as a brace and pivot, spun his whole body around like a top. If not for what was to soon transpire, one would be hard-pressed not to call it break-dancing.

His legs splayed out like an upside-down fan blade, the old assassin shifted his weight to the side and delivered a powerful spinning heal kick to the overhang. The fragile structure soon gave way and fell towards the base of the mountain, the four boys falling with it. The boys screamed in mortal terror as they plummeted towards the rocky ravine floor.

Toa stepped up to the edge and peered down into the ravine at the base of the waterfall. Gears whirred as his prosthetic eyes zoomed in on the four boys far below. Choatzu who had remained stoic up until then decided to come forward.

"I still think this is a little too extreme," said the young emperor.

"It's no different from the kind of trials I put you and Tien through when you were kids."

"But still..," began Choatzu. However, before he could finish he was cut off by his old teacher.

"But still nothing!" snapped the aged killer. "I too was subjected to the same test by my own brother when I was being trained. If they can climb back up, they will be allowed to further their training. If not, they will be held back."

"Besides..," continued Toa, "You can always fly the stragglers to a hospital if bad comes to worse."

"That doesn't make me feel any better about it!" replied the eternal child.

Meanwhile, far below at the base of the waterfall, a nightmarish scene was unfolding. It had been a few hours since their sensei, Toa Pai-Pai, had sent the four aspiring students plummeting to the canyon floor, and only now were either of them coming too. Blood and small chunks of wringed flesh stained the rocks pink and the mist from the waterfall added a surreal yet grizzly effect to the site of impact.

It was Kato who was the first to bring himself around. The young boy winced from the pain, the strain of moving putting him on the brink. It was then that the boy began to scream uncontrollably.

"WHY!!?" It was then that his legs gave out, sending him sprawling out on his backside. The young boy lay there a few moments just screaming and sobbing desperately. With every scream, with every seizure the young man suffered, flakes of blood would curdle from his mouth.

'_Why? Why did this happen?' _

It was then that he heard a slushy sounding moan. With a spasming hand, Kato reached for something, anything to brace himself with. It was then that he was faced with another dilemma. His depth perception was going, and strangely, he was unable to attain balance.

He soon found a rock and began to pull himself to his feet. He tried as best he could to find a decent footing but failed utterly. He soon gave up and resigned himself to crawl along the stony river shore.

"GEN SI!!!" hollered the worried kid, "OHHH GOD!! PLEASE GOD!!! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"Kattooo…"

Kato jerked around frantically until spying a cushy, blood-drenched lump lodged under a massive boulder. He hurriedly scampered over to the said lump only to make an appalling discovery.

"G-Gen si!" Katos' voice shook with strained emotion as he reached for what was left of his best friend. It had seemed that in the middle of the drop, Gen si Twan was pulled under the falling overhang. Upon impact, the rocky protrusion smashed his lower body into applesauce.

"Kat-t-to!" whimpered the injured Gen si, "P-please! For-g-g-get about m-me… G-Go and climb back up! You could b-become a m-master!"

"NO!! Don't talk that way Gen si!" Kato cradled Gen sis' head and embraced his fallen compatriot. "This will mean nothing if I don't have you there to carry me!"

"I'm afraid that this is it for me Kato." The overweight boy breathed deep before continuing. "Bring me honor.."

It was then that Gen si passed out. The silence that ensued became nearly intangible. Kato began to shake with unbridled angst.

"GEN SIIIIII!!!!!"

Just then, Kato shot up and grabbed the boulder that had pinned his friend. Fingertips popped and flesh ripped, leaving bloody stains as Kato dug into its' grainy surface. With an ear-splitting shriek, the lad hefted the massive boulder over his head before chunking it aside.

Reaching down, Kato hauled Gen si up by one wrist and slung him over his shoulder. All that kept him going at this point was that he had to do something to save his student-in-arms.

"Well…, That's that!" mused a disappointed Toa. The old assassin turned to leave.

"Look! I know they're still in the game!" said Choutzu assertively, "I can feel it! This was your idea! Just give them a little longer! Something's bound to come out of this!"

"It's been five hours," said Toa. "None of them are ready for the next stage of the training. If they can't get past this, than promoting them to another belt level is pointless. Just go get them before they die of blood loss!"

Just as the elder Tsuru assassin was getting ready to pack it in, both he and Choatzu heard a sound.

"Hmm!?" Toa stepped up to the edge of the cliff and peered over. What he saw left him absolutely flabbergasted, for right below him was Kato, bloodied but not beaten, slowly climbing up the sheer geography. However, it was not this that amazed him. Slung over Katos' shoulder being held in place by one arm was Gen si Twan.

'_I can't believe it! Just simply can't believe it!' _The old killer almost had to stop himself from rooting on the powerful boy. '_He climbed back up with only one arm, and with a whole other person in tow! This one will go far beyond my expectations indeed!'_

"Choatzu!"

Immediately, the eternal child stood to attention. Just as Toa Pai-Pai was pulling Kato onto the ledge, Choatzu had yanked Gen si aside and administered him a senzu. It was a wonder that giving his condition, Gen even lived long enough for Kato to hoist him astride the sheer cliff.

"At least it's nearly over…," said Choatzu.

"Not quite!" spoke Toa. "Den Sum and Xin are still down there!"

"Of course!" Choatzu then took to the sky. "I can still sense their ki signature. They probably fell into the river. I'll have to check downstream!"

"Make haste!" the Crane assassin commanded, "They are as much apart of our schools' future as these two are!"

"Well kiddo! I'll be taking my leave now."

"When will you be back?" asked Yeung.

"In about a month," answered Tien. "I also have my own affairs to think about."

"You better not forget your promise," warned the boy warrior. "I'll come looking for you if it comes to that!"

"You and everyone else!" With that, Tien Shinhan again took to the sky, taking time only to wave goodbye.

Just as Tien was departing, Toa and the other Crane students emerged from the woods. In Toas' arms lay Kato who, never mind the senzus' healing properties, looked as if he had been through a war. Trailing behind them were Choatzu who himself was carrying an unconscious Gen si Twan, with little Den Sum and Xin taking up the rear.

"Master!"

"Yeung!" said Toa.

"How did their test go?" asked Yeung. It was then that Yeung noticed the down-trodden looks Xin and Den Sum wore.

"Kato passed spectacularly!" squealed Choatzu enthusiastically. "You should have seen it Yeung! Incredible doesn't even begin to describe what happened! It was wild!"

"There's still the matter of Den Sum and Xin utterly failing however," explained the aged cyborg. "They got lost in the woods after their fall from the cliff side. As for Gen si, it's a miracle he's even alive."

"Cliff!? What cliff?"

"Don't ask!" snapped Xin.

"I'm going to take Kato home," said Toa Pai-Pai. "Choatzu! Check Gen si into a hospital just to be safe!"

"Den Sum," spoke Yeung. "I think its time you got home as well. Your mom is probably worried sick. Don't need her suing the school over breach of contract! You too Xin! You're in trouble with the juvenile system as is."

"Hai!" Den Sum performed a cordial bow before scampering off.

"You're not my dad!" popped Xin. "I'll do what I want!"

"_Fine_! Whatever! If you get into trouble with the probation officer again, don't go crying to Master for help!"

It hadn't taken long for Toa to return Kato to his grandfather at their temple. Kato belonged to an old, displaced Japanese family that for political reasons, fled the main island of Honshu hundreds of years ago. Their family started a Shinto shrine that quickly converted many of the local towns' Buddist and Toaist followers. Explaining where Kato had been for the past three days had taken some doing. Katos' grandfather was about as unforgiving as Toa himself so an argument ensued between Katos' grandfather and the old Crane assassin. In the end, this led to a tacit compromise between the two seniors.

Hours later, Toa finally came home. It was then that Yeung and Mercenary Toa were alone. The two looked on as the twilight of dusk settled over the pristine landscape. As usual, it was Toa that jump-started the conversation.

"So, what did Tien have to say?" the former assassin asked.

"He still has problems with my dietary program," answered Yeung. "He's concerned that my health is at risk."

"Let him be concerned!" replied Toa. "I'm taking you off the growth hormones anyway. You're just about where I want you to be. Tomorrow I'm putting you on another supplementary program."

"Hmm…?!" At this Yeung arched an eyebrow.

"That's right!" began the assassin, "Starting tomorrow, you will be placed on a program geared towards bone density. I fear that despite your frames' increase in dimensions, the boosted growth may have weakened your skeletons' integrity. In addition to this, a part of your training will also be tapered to coincide with the goals of your dietary program. Drink lots of milk. You're going to need it!"

"I'll do whatever it takes!" said Yeung.

"Good boy," spoke Toa, "We have less than four months until the Nationals. We're gonna need every second we can get!"

"Have you gained any recent information on our competition?" Yeung asked.

"Yes I have," answered Toa. "Master Muten Roshi has registered some young and coming fighter. This completely changes everything."

"How so?"

"This takes a paltry material struggle and turns it into a war of ideas," explained the older man. "Now, not only must you train to move the immovable object, you must also bear the heart and soul of the dojo!"

It was then that Toa placed a heavy hand on Yeungs' shoulder. Normally, this wouldn't mean much had it been for one thing: Mercenary Toa Pai-Pai never touched anyone save when he killed them!

As they stood there looking into one another's eyes, time seemed to stand still. For warriors such as them, it took every scrap of energy to even stare. Whether or not either of them knew it, a kindred spirit had formed between them, one that only seifu and pupil could understand.

"You cannot and must not lose this upcoming tournament!" droned Toa. "For the rest of the time you're here, I will be familiarizing you with the flaws of the Kame style. You and only you can carry the hopes and dreams of this dojo! Internalize these words and do what must be done!"

"Sir!" began Yeung. "For as long as you provide an example to follow, I will commit myself to your teachings! Please, let us do this together!"

Power Levels:

Rolo Yeung : 171

Hard Copper: 209

Fein: 123

Mercenary Toa: 187

Kato Noranuga: 21.8

Gen si Twan: 11.5

Den Sum: 7.3

Xin: 16.2

Authors' Note: For those of you who are wondering, Yeungs' relationship with Mercenary Toa is one of mutual respect. That is, it is one born of the kind of respect that comes in a typical master/student relationship. There is also some father-son style closeness between the two that is similar to what one sees between Muten Roshi and Krillain. A lot of this is due to Mercenary Toa and Yeung having similar personalities. Yeung is like the son that Toa Pai-Pai never had.


	14. Preliminary Peril

Disclaimer: In no way do I own any part of Dragonball Z or Dragonball. These animes and all characters thereof are the exclusive property of Toei Animation, Funimation, and Akira Toryama. However, Rolo Yeung, Fein, Scott, Hard Copper, and Rat the Iron Bullet are mine so hands off!

Chapter 14: Intrigue of the Calm

North City:

It has been around eight months since Tien left Yeung under Mercenary Toas' tutelage, and the opening act of the Natioanl Tenkaichi is only hours away. Fighters from not just the Northern Kingdom, but from around the globe have converged upon the Northern Capitals' prestige's arena, promising this to be a competition to remember for ages to come.

"Welcome to the Nationals," greeted one monk. "The sign-in booths are just inside sir. Follow the arrows to find the locker rooms."

"Excellent!" said a certain ex-assassin, "I believe this is where we go our separate ways."

"Master?"

"Just be careful that you don't kill anyone," assured Toa, "I'm going to go pay the cab driver and then I and the boys will be taking our seats! You might even see us in the stands. Good luck!"

"Thanks!" said Yeung. "I'll need it."

Just then, a voice, most likely one of a tournament official, blared over the intercom. _"WILL ALL REGISTERED PARTICIPANTS PLEASE MAKE THEIR WAY TO THE SIGN-IN STATION!"_

"AHHH! Time to get this party started!" said Yeung enthusiastically. Just as Yeung was about to enter the arena, he was stopped by a voice he hadn't heard in a while.

"Yeung? Is that _really_ you?!"

"Scott!" exclaimed the young fighter. Yeung ran up to the raggedy mountain man and delivered a firm handshake. "How long has it been?!"

"Too long!" replied the red head. "What have you been up to all this time? Look at how you've grown! We saw you getting butchered by Cell and we feared the worst!"

"_Yeaahh_! About that," began Yeung, his voice dripping with embarrassment, "Things didn't go half as well as I had planned."

"_Apparently," _Scott said sarcastically. "We even called the town undertaker and offered to pay for your funeral."

"Where's the old-timer?" asked Yeung in a petty attempt to change subjects.

"My great uncles' passed on, " Scott answered ruefully. "He died in a cave-in. We tried to set up shop illegally under the radar of the company town charter. You could say we traded our buckskins for miners' picks. We were hoping to strike it rich! One day, a support brace came undone and my uncle was crushed to death. There was no saving him."

"That's awful!"

Scott continued, "Because of that, the local sheriff caught wind of the incident and I was hauled in for questioning. I got stiffed with a fine and community service!"

"I wish I could have heard," said Yeung. "The least I could have done is posted bail."

"Don't sweat it!" replied Scott. "Are you competing?"

"Yes."

"Then I won't hold you up." Scott then turned to leave. "If anyone can kick Hard Coppers' ass, you can!"

Without even saying goodbye, Yeung jogged through the front door, into the front lobby of the stadium.

Once inside, Yeung was confronted with a line of participates that seemed to stretch around the corner. On the other side of the room, there was an even longer line that extended right out the entrance. He assumed those were eager spectators vying for good seats. The North City Stadium had an upwards capacity of over thirty thousand. Yeung had attended a sporting event here before with his old girlfriend.

"Man, this is gonna take forever!" whined the boy warrior.

"Hey bro!"

Just then, Yeung whipped around to see someone he imagined he would never see again.

"Fein!"

"That's my name, don't wear it out!" joked the older teen. "I almost didn't recognize you."

"Oh my God!" shouted Yeung. "Come here ya Congoloid bastard!" It was then that Yeung pulled his old friend in for a strong bear-hug.

"Whoa boy! I don't swing that way!" said Fein pushing Yeung away. "Look at you man! What happened? Look how you've grown!"

"I've been training for a long time," explained the younger teen. "Joined a new school!"

"So I see," said Fein. "The emblem on your fighting garb says a lot. You look good in a Chinese fighting uniform you Asian midget!"

"EX-midget!" Yeung corrected warningly. "I wouldn't be talking if I were you. Like most black guys, you seem to have a thing for flamboyant digs."

"_Ohhh_, Snap! _Uppercut_!" chided Fein humorously. "Ha,ha,haaa! You still a little smart ass, but at least you still keepin it real!"

"Speaking of which, why are you wearing that particular gi?" asked Yeung. "Last I checked, orange wasn't exactly your favorite color."

"I also joined a new school!" Fein explained proudly. "You're looking at this generations' only student in the Turtle Style!"

Upon hearing this, Yeungs' whole body went numb and his expression became so blank that one would think somebody died. Thinking something was amiss, Fein simply stared at Yeung with curiosity.

"What is it Yeung? What's a matter?"

Finally, the shorter adolescent shook himself out of it. "Nothing man. It's nothing!"

"It sure as hell doesn't seem like nothing!" pressed the dark-skinned fighter. "You can tell me."

"It's not all that important."

Before Fein could press Yeung any further, there erupted a boisterous cheer from outside. As if on cue, half the stadium lobby emptied into the parking lot.

"What was that all about?"

"I don't know," said Fein. "Let's go find out!"

The two youths darted outside right behind what could only be described as a mob. Pulling into the crowded parking lot was a police motorcade followed by an all too familiar black limousine with the word 'SATAN' emblazoned in big bold white letters on the side. Shouts of "Satan!" "Satan!" ringed long and loud from the enthusiastic crowd as their man of the hour rolled in. Members of the press corp. who had been strangely absent up to that point pulled into the lot right behind the protected motorcade.

Almost immediately, the police detail assembled a crowd control barrier on the right side of the limousine. Law enforcement officers and tournament officials worked frantically to get the riot of crazed fans under control.

Just then, the driver hoped out of the front seat and shuffled quickly to the other side of the vehicle. Standing to one side, the limo driver opened the rear passenger door and out stepped the one and only Mr. Satan, A.K.A World Savior.

"ALRIGHT! YEAH!" hollered the large man, "DO YOU PEOPLE WANNA SEE SOME ACTION?!"

As if to answer his question, the crowd began whipping itself into an even greater frenzy, assuming that such a thing were even possible.

As the 'champ' stepped away, a small girl stepped out of the limousine. She had raven black hair and looked to be about ten or so years old. She wore a tomboyish looking gym getup and had the muscles of a teenaged boy.

It wasn't long before the press began to haggle the big, kinky-haired fighter with questions.

"Mr. Satan! The current national champs' manager has thrown numerous allegations at you regarding your victory over Cell eight months ago. Do you care to comment?"

"Are you competent that your training will be enough for you to go toe-to-toe with Hard Copper? Some experts say that you have absolutely no chance of victory!"

"Mr. Satan, please! Are the accusations of Videls' steroid use true?"

At this last question, the Champ flew off the handle and barreled into the hapless journalist who'd asked it.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!" Before the police could do anything, Mr. Satan was on top of the guy, beating his head in. In all, it took more than a dozen members of the security detail to get Mr. Satan off the man.

During the commotion caused by Mr. Satan, Yeung and Fein slipped in behind everyone present and signed in. Before heading back to the locker rooms however, the two doubled back towards the parking lot to watch the ensuing riot.

"Ten zeni says he assaults a cop," offered Fein.

"He's looking out for his daughter," Yeung explained. "He's a pretty good guy. Cut him some slack."

"This is coming from a guy who practically eviscerated Mr. Satans' franchise in West City," said Fein sarcastically.

"That's before I met him personally," replied Yeung. "He's alright. I had a beer with the man."

"Always thinking with your liver, aren't you?!" asked Fein.

"You know me! Distilled spirits all around!"

"Wanna go scan some chicks after the competition?" Fein offered with a sly grin.

"Maybe…"

"Hey Fein!"

The two boys whipped around to see a peculiar gaggle of folks walking up to them. One was an old man with a bald head and a snow white goatee. A second was a beautiful blonde women who was holding hands with a midget male bearing a crew cut. The fourth of the group was an Asian looking man with deep scars etched into the left side of his face. One his shoulder was a roundish blue cat. Yeung immediately recognized two of the strange newcomers from the Cell Games.

"You!!" stated Yamach pointing at Yeung. "You're that kid from back then!"

"So…," began Roshi, "I see that Tien actually allowed Toa Pai-Pai to train you. Or was it his brother Shin?"

Yeung calmly walked up to Master Roshi and began to stare the old man down "You seem to know a lot about my teacher, but I don't know a thing about you old man."

At this, the old Turtle Hermit could only smirk. "Considering my age, most people don't even know I'm still alive so I shouldn't be surprised that you don't know me."

"_Master…,_" whispered Fein. Whether he meant for Yeung to hear this utterance or not is beside the point.

"Master!?" exclaimed Yeung aloud. "You're him! Kamesinnin Muten Roshi!"

"So you know about me," laughed Roshi, "I see Toa has said great things regarding my exploits!"

"_Hardly…,_" muttered Yeung. "My seifu has tasked me with the job of defeating your school. He told me that this tournament is but one battle in a long war! Just know that beating your school is not on the top of my priority list for this competition."

"Hmm.., that's strange," spoke the Turtle Hermit, "Usually when the Crane Dojo enters a tournament, my boys wind up having to protect their nuts."

"Master! What's going on?!" demanded Fein.

"It's a long story!" said Roshi. "I might tell it to you one day."

"I'm personally not all that concerned with the bad blood between the schools," explained Yeung. "I have prior engagements!"

"Prior engagements?"

"You really haven't seen a nine foot Apache Indian tromping about?!" asked Yeung before turning and walking away. The turtle school was left to dwell on what the teen fighter had said.

"Nine foot Indian?!" repeated Yamacha. "Master, do you have any idea what that kid was rambling about?"

"Not a freakin clue!" answered Roshi shaking his head.

"Tien said that Toa had Rolo on drugs," said Fein. "Maybe the drugs and alcohol have finally burned up his brain cells?"

Yeung arrived in the locker room and began to survey the competition. Upon entering, several of the fighters took notice of him and stepped forward, one of them offering a handshake. This particular man was a huge Mongolian Wrestler with a Manchurian ponytail.

"You're Rolo Yeung," said one of the participants. "I was there the day you fought Hard Copper. That bastard murdered my fellow student in a fight some years back."

Yeung accepted the handshake. "From what I've heard, he's butchered a lot of martial artists over the years."

"If anyone can beat him, it's you," continued the wrestler. "I fought the bastard myself seven months ago! He left this scar on my face right below my eye! Depth perceptions' been shitty ever since!"

"I too have faced Hard Copper," spoke yet another fighter. "It was in this very tournament last Spring. I had to run away or get put away! I saw your fight with Cell. The way you wrenched that stone spire out of the ground like that is now an urban legend. I don't care what Mr. Satan says. No one could call that fake!"

"If anyone can beat Hard Copper, it has to be you," declared a third. "A lot of people believe Mr. Satan is the strongest man alive. At one time that may have been true but not anymore. There are some among us who believe that Mr. Satans' victory over Cell only happened because you and the other fighters wore Cell down. You, Caroni, Paroski, and those other guys put your hearts and souls into that fight! You guys were the real heroes."

"I'll try my damndest to beat the Mountain King but I can't make any promises," said Yeung. "I can only imagine how strong he's gotten since our fight! Anyway, I'm gonna scope out my competition some more."

"Right!" said the large wrestler. "We'll see each other in the ring."

"I'll be looking forward to it."

Yeung walked over to an empty locker and inserted his assigned key. Inside the locker was an envelop and a white paper with a number printed on it in big, bold, black letters. Opening the letter, he began to read it.

_Honorable Participant,_

_Before you is a slip with a number on it. This is your registration #. Show it to the tournament officials before the start of the preliminary bouts. It will be used to determine your position in the roster. Give it your all and best of luck!_

_Wong Fei Hong_

_President of the Martial Arts Society_

Tossing the letter aside, Yeung reached down and stuffed the registration number into his sock. Because he was already dressed for the prelims, there was no need to dab up before the first match. He did however have a watch and a chain of keys that he wanted to leave aside.

Before long, Yeung found himself venturing around the locker room. Clustered around the facility were fighters of all types. Many of them looked fierce at first glance but Yeung knew there were few warriors among them.

'_Some of these guys have seen too many winters,' _thought the boy, _'Some, too few!'_

Just then, he was brought around by a thin-looking bald fighter. The man wore brown Sholin robes and carried a chain of prayer beads in one hand. The other hand was brought up in a Budda-stylesk purification gesture, fingers and palm stretched out.

"You must be Yeung," stated the man with a gentle drawl. "I have been waiting a long time to meet you. I have traveled many miles to do battle with you. Do not disappoint me!"

Just as quickly as the man was finished, he turned on a heel and walked away, leaving Yeung befuddled over what just happened.

The mysterious fellow harkened back to something that occurred months ago between him and ne'er-do-wells.

_It was nighttime in West City. A deep fog had settled over the burg, casting an eerie twilight over everything. Unbeknownst to the citizens of this fair city, the criminal element, the Yakuza, were preparing to address a long-postponed loose end._

_The Yakuza, long Japan's and the Pacific Rim's most sinister gang organization, had been coordinating for months with the Chinese Ax Gang in an attempt to find a person, or more correctly a boy named Rolo Yeung. Nine months prior, Yeung had killed their Ginger Town branch, butchering the men and piling the bodies on his front lawn as a warning to the Yakuza and their associates. This had enraged the organization and prison bosses, prompting them to action. They trailed the small fighter to the outskirts of West City where they had decided to make their move._

_Hoping to blindside the boy warrior, the Yakuza bosses roped a pair of crooked cops into a hit job. These cops were deployed to kill their quarry under threat that the public be informed of police corruption in West City. Two days later, the mutilated bodies of the said officers were found lying in a ditch on an out of the way roadside._

_By this time, the Yakuza were finished fooling around. They scoured the country for word on the street regarding the recent location of Rolo Yeung. They even went so far as to use a front operation disguised as an Interpol investigation to gather forensics intel, hoping that Yeung had been killed by Cell. During this time, they had found a green carapace arm which presumably belonged to Cell. Believing they could have use for the arm, they stashed the disembodied limb away and returned to the task of finding Yeung._

_Two weeks passed and still no word on Yeungs' location. Finally, sources revealed that Yeung had been registered for the North Kingdoms' National Budokai. Not wanting to botch another attempt on the boy's life, the leaders decided on a more subtle approach._

"_Rat the Iron Bullet! You are the greatest assassin this country has to offer!" railed an obese middle-aged man, cigar wedged between his teeth. "It is for this reason that my associates want you to do a job for us."_

"_I am honored sir!" said the bald killer. "I'll do whatever job you so pay me to."_

_Just then, the obese mobster slid a picture across his desk to the hired hand. "This boy! He's entering the upcoming tournament. We want you to kill him!"_

"_Would you like me to do it alone or will I have assistance?" _

"_No," said the fat man flatly, "That would be too inconspicuous! They would probably be killed anyway. You're the only man who can pull this off!"_

"_Where does he live?" asked Rat._

"_Whoa there my friend!" warned the bloated gangster, "Play this smart! The kid is under the protection of Mercenary Toa! It would do you no good to go against both of them!"_

"_When and where then?" _

_A sick blubbery smile graced the gangster's lips. "At the tournament! You'll get disqualified at the competition but at least it will be legal. If you can, make it look like an accident! If you kill this kid, you can become a very rich man."_

"_Done!" declared Rat. "My Tizanchi Fist of the Yellow River has yet to know defeat!"_

After having lunch in the stadium mess hall, Yeung made his way onto the field where the prelims were to be held. Assembled in a square were four circular rings and in the center of these four rings was an even larger concrete ring. Overlooking the arena were two large statues depicting a battle that was supposed to have occurred hundreds of years past.

Around the outer parameter of the field, the contestants had clustered in groups. Some were simply talking while still others were busy showing out with their colleagues. Scattered among the fighters were tournament officials who scampered to and fro, quelling disputes and inspecting the participants for weapons or other illegal contraband. Some fighters, depending on their style, were checked for licensing.

It was then that Yeung finally saw him. Hard Copper! The monster native was propped against an archway, all the while shooting looks at passersby that could burn through lead.

"_Alright folks! Can you lend me your ears?!" _

In the center ring was a blond haired man who wore a snazzy outfit complete with sunglasses. This was Mr. Akira who had worked for years as the announcer at the Tenkaichi Budokai. Beside him was Mr. Satan's own announcer sidekick from the Cell Games, Jody Firecracker.

"_We are proud to welcome each and every one of you, spectator and participant alike, to the National Budokai!" _Instantaneously, there was a great roar from the crowds as shouts of "Mr. Satan!" "Mr. Satan!" were hurled liberally with reckless abandon.

"_In spite of the recent riot in the parking lot, we are please to inform everyone that the tournament will proceed as planned! Only two people were killed and only one was gunned down by the police!"_

"Looks like Mr. Satan didn't do as much damage as I thought," said Yeung.

"_However, we regret to inform you all that Mr. Satan will be allotted a fine for disturbing the peace!"_

Speak of the devil and he appears. It was then that Yeung heard the loud slogging laughter of yet another someone he knew…

"Hah! A fine!? I'm practically made of money!"

A few feet away stood the afroed grease ball himself in all his hairy glory. Needless to say, when Mr. Satan noticed Yeung he paled a few shades. Yeung strolled over to where Mr. Satan was now trying to make himself scarce.

"I see you got what you wanted," observed the boy fighter.

"Mmm.., yeah," replied the older man, "Listen! You can't say you wouldn't have done the same!"

"For the booze yes," agreed Yeung. "You bet your mommas' sweet ass I would have!"

"Alright!" continued Mister Satan, "Then you have no ethical bones to pick with me?"

Yeung shook his head in affirmation. "Great!"

"Besides," began Yeung, "Getting my ass handed to me by Grasshopper Man was a blessing in disguise."

"How so?" prodded Satan.

"You'll see…"

The two participants then turned their attentions back to the introductions put forward by the announcer. By this time however, the President of the Martial Arts Society had made his way onto the stage. The elderly looking man was wheelchair bound and required assistance from Jody Firecracker just so he could reach the microphone.

"_Greetings fighters young and old alike! We welcome you to the Northern Kingdoms' 15__th__ annual National Tenkaichi Budokai! This promises to be a very special event for not only do we have the pleasure of seeing our current National Champion Hard Copper defend his title yet again, this tournament will also be showcasing two past World Champions. In a moment, we will have the pleasure of hearing from both the current Champ, Mr. Satan from the 24__th__ World Tournament, King Choppoa from the 18__th__ World Tournament, and the returning 22__nd__ World Tournament Champion Tien Shenhan!_

Upon hearing this, the mood of the crowd went from livid to blazing. Cheers and jeers sprung up from the entire seated population, as if a hive of bees had been struck with a stick. They soon quieted down however, when the president resumed his speech.

"_In addition to this, we have two very special veterans who have graced us with our presence! Both have done it all and seen it all! Give it up for past World Champions Muten Roshi and Toa Pai-Pai!"_

Just then, Master Roshi and Mercenary Toa made there way onto the field. Both men glared daggers at one another as they made their way up the steps. It was Toa however, who was allotted use of the mic first.

"_Good day warriors! Your adulation warms this old killers' metallic heart! As we stand on the edge of tomorrow, the only thing I can say to the participants is that I am glad that I am not you! There are a handful of lions among you! Baptism by fire will burn away the rocks from the gemstones and reveal those among you who are truly products of the way of the warrior! Today, we are not mercenaries, celebrities, or whatever! Today, we are men! Men who reach for that which every boy dreams he could be: The strongest! Take delight in this single ray of light that many of you now have. Someday, all of you will, like me, grow old and then you will try to reach for things only to have them slip through your hands as if they were sand!"_

It was then that Muten Roshi hobbled up to the microphone.

"_I didn't really write a speech for this occasion but I'll shoot!" _blared the old hermit, _"Before I do however, I think it wise that we all share a moment of silence for the two people that died in the riot out front!"_

As if on cue, half the stadium went quiet and bowed their heads. When it was all over, the old Turtle Hermit resumed his speech:

"_I'm not going to say much except for this: There are some of you who fight for fame and wealth, or to prove that you are somehow more manly than others. This is folly! Martial artists are supposed to affirm their traditional roles as the vanguards of the ancient ways! They are supposed to provide a moral pillar for the rest of society to stand on! To set an example! That is what a real man does! Don't spend the rest of your lives reaching for that which you can never have because let me tell you, there will come a time when any record you set will be broken! It happened to me! It can and will happen to you! Strive for what you can while you can, but never loose sight of what is in front of you! Never forget your obligations to family, friends, and community!"_

Half the audience applauded the old master while the half that agreed with Mercenay Toa remained stoic. It was then that the announcer grabbed the mike.

"_Next we will hear a few words from our current National Champion, Hard Copper, The Mountain King!"_

The reception that the Mountain king received from the spectators was a mixed bag. Some believed him to be the greatest thing to ever grace the ring floor. Others saw him as a sadistic monster whose blood lust was insatiable. Behind him was what looked like a short white house cat with a cane.

Master Roshi noticed the white cat and started towards him. However, he was soon stopped in his tracks by a vicious glare sent his way by Hard Copper.

Upon reaching the center ring, Hard Copper raised both of his hands towards the massive statues. Clueless as to what was going on, Mr. Akira and Mr. Firecracker stood there perplexed. Master Roshi and Toa-Pai-Pai sama however, quickly realized that something was up and grabbed both the president and the two announcers before darting off the ring in a mad rush.

Just as they had left the ring, a strange, glowing, forlorn fog erupted from the outstretched palms of The Mountain King. Like the rush of a raging torrent, the two waves crashed through the enormous statues, creating fissure lines were the sinister white torrents passed though them. Finally, save for the heads, the whole of the statues were reduced to powdered slag which crashed to a heap on either side of the main ring.

The heads of the said statues fell to the Earth and just as they were about to hit the ground, the massive native caught one in each hand. Bringing the severed heads close to his body, the giant Korin Indian began to squeeze. Muscles bulges and blood vessels popped as the heads of solid granite simply crumbled as though they were paper mashie.

"How?!" asked Roshi, "How did we miss this one?!"

"I knew he would be strong but still…," began Toa.

Sounds of aw emanated from the crowd of participants. Never in their life had any of them seen such a physics defying display of iron-hard, blunt-force, ability. Unable to move, Mr. Akira and Mr. Firecracker lay cringing in fear.

The eight foot red man strode slowly towards the microphone, his feet producing thunderous booms with each step. Reaching down, he grasped the mike with such pressure that the device produced a loud squeal that pieced the ears of many an observer. The mouthpiece, being more than three feet away, still carried his raspy breath.

Many of those who had faced HC in recent years, found themselves cringing internally and not so internally from being this close to what for many of them, became the thing that brought them close to retirement. Some of those who were present shuffled nervously away from the central ring as if they were afraid that the wily tribesman could snap any moment. Others were fixated on the short, strange humanoid looking white cat that had arrived with Hard Copper.

The mountain king fixated his stare on all those present, a small twinkle in his eye being the only hint giving away his intentions regarding events to come.

"_Morsels!" _stated the giant flatly, _"All of you! Appetizers! You shall all know, spectator and contestant alike that nothing short of an act of the Great Spirit could ever save you from me! I was destined to battle all that exists on this Earth! When I'm finished here, the heavens are next, for only when I am through proving that nothing on Earth can stop me will the Gods themselves deem me worthy! The life of a true warrior is like a moth dancing around a swaying flame! Know that both Roshi and Toa are badly mistaken in their assumptions of warriorhood! Only once in a generation is a man born who can claim the mantle of Heaven. Only by living a life fraught with struggle can a man truly find himself. The only true conflict is a life without conflict! It is of the natural laws! You shall all know this soon enough!"_

With that, the massive behemoth left the ring and headed for the edge of the field. The parting crowd gave the man a wide breath lest they be his next target. With every footfall, massive dredges were dug into the tight-packed earth. Finally, the muscle-bound gargantuan sat cross-legged at the base of a pillar along the outer perimeter of the grass.

The next to go up was Tien Shinhan. Initially, Toa and the others were taken off guard to learn that the three-eyed warrior had also entered. He simply had nothing to gain and nothing to prove by doing so.

"_Hello everyone!" _began the triclops. "_I have to say that after all these years, it's good to be back in the ring! Never once since the 22__nd__ tournament have I stopped training. Being back in this environment gives me intense feelings of panorama that I can't describe in the time I've been allotted. I've been through a lot over the years, both by myself and with my friends! For a while, I thought that I would retire, but something happened that inspired me! _

"_Inspiration!" _stated Tien. "_Inspiration is what drives us! Without it, we'd all be like everyone else. Just settling for mediocrity! Never stop experimenting. Never stop trying new things! Some people say that we've reached the end of history, that fighting theory is complete. Bullshit I say! As long as there is a context, there will be experimentations. As long as there exists experimentations, there will be a continuation of development! Fight theory cannot and will not die. I personally know several people who are living proof of this! Don't listen to the so-called experts and don't stop trying."_

Of all the speeches given thus far, Tiens' stirred the crowd in a way that garnered real consensus. It wasn't about school of thought! It wasn't about fighting ideology or way of life. It got to the core of answering a question: Why?

Next to last was King Choppoa, the winner of the 18th World Tournament. The aged man hobbled slowly into the center ring. One of the few people Rolo Yeung respected, despite his frail appearance, like Master Roshi and Mercenary Toa, the man was an accomplished fighter and warrior. As he began to speak, his Hindu accent exentuated his delivery.

"_Hello good children of the soil! I am only here to say that for those of you who are thinking about following the path of the warrior, forget it! Unless if you are trained from a young age, you will never grasp the essence of the fighting principles! Not all men can be warriors but a true warrior can come from anywhere! I believe that is what Mercenary Toa meant earlier. Anyhow, fight hard and fall in honor! Sometimes, the greatest victory can be found in the ashes of ones' defeat!"_

The last was Mr. Satan. The hairy man strode into the ring, not hiding the fact that his strut was for aesthetics only. With a load bellow, the man began whipping the crowds in the stands into yet another fevered frenzy. It almost seemed as if another riot were going to break out right in the fifth row.

"_ARE YOU READY FOR SOME ACTIOOON?!!!! Well, you've come to the right place! Dr. Satans' here to administer the cure to this snoozefest!"_

At some point, the security detail just flat gave up trying to quell another riot. There really was no point in damage control at this juncture. Off to the side, the mayor of North City and the chamber of commerce looked on with concern at the level of civil disorder that the so-called World Savior was promoting.

Seeing this as his chance, Master Roshi approached the white cat, Korin, the God of Martial Arts.

"Mind telling me what this is all about?" asked Roshi.

"I made a promise to the people of the Land of Korin many generations ago," explained the divine feline. "I told their ancestors that in the event one of their own climbed my tower, I would complete that persons' training. When Goku climbed my tower, he only got the initial training because he was not born of the Korin Tribe. The problem is after all these generations the only one among them who managed to climb the tower was Hard Copper."

"Are you crazy?!" yelled the Turtle Hermit, "You can read minds just as I can! That guy is cold-hearted!"

"His brother Boora once had to be brought back with the dragon balls. He gave his life to protect my tower from invasion. Boora's son Uumpa suffered a severe head concussion because of the Red Ribbon Armys' actions! What was it that I was supposed to do?! Hard Copper is the only member of the Tribe of Korin that knows enough about martial arts to make use of my fighting style! I'm sorry, but I had to do it! It was my burden!"

Kamesinnins' brow furrowed in anger. He gripped his palms so hard his knuckles lost their color. "Err…Well now he's our burden!"

The old hermit took a few moments to cool off before continuing.

"What was the full extent of his training?" prodded the old master.

"Far more than Goku or you ever got. I'll say that much old friend."

"If that's the case, then we should warn Fein," said Roshi.

"Wait!" commanded the cat. "This could work out to our advantage after all!"

"How?! How could this possibly be a good thing?"

"Call me crazy but I have a hunch," explained Korin-sama. "Just let things in this tournament play out!"

Meanwhile, the contestants began to line up in front of a white bulletin board. On the board was a table displaying the entire roster for the competition. In all, there were over two hundred and fifty contestants present. The table also detailed the presumed order in which the fighters present would compete.

"Hmm…," wondered Fein aloud, "Who will I be fighting in my first match? I'm number 54 so…."

"So who are you fighting first?" asked Yeung.

"Some nobody," said Fein. "Speaking of which, who's your first opponent?"

Yeung squinted at the board, trying to make out the gibberish Japanese characters.

"Don't know!" Yeung finally answered. "I can't read their writing! I'm Hun Guar, not Japanese!"

"It probably doesn't matter," said Fein, "They're probably gonna call our names in the lingua alba anyway so don't fret!"

"Hey Mr. Satan!" shouted Yeung, "Who are you fighting in your first match?"

"Some run of the mill guy!" answered the champ. "Not worth mention!"

Power Levels:

Average Human: 5

Rolo Yeung: 281

Fein: 175

Hard Copper: 302

Master Roshi: 130

Mercenary Toa: 190

Korin: 145

Rat the Iron Bullet: 65

Mr. Satan: 32


	15. The Fighting Begins In Ernest

Disclaimer: I own no part of Dragonball Z or Dragonball. These great mangas and all characters thereof are the exclusive property of Akira Toriyama and Funimation Productions. Rolo Yeung, Fein, Rat the Iron Bullet, Hard Copper, Growser, Bridled Fury, and Beatrice are mine.

Chapter 15: The Fighting Begins in Earnest

"_Alright ladies and gentlemen!" _Mr. Akira, the announcer blared. "_It's time for the National Budokai to begin!"_

Upon hearing this, the panorama that ensued in the stands reached the breaking point. Signs and fan-show were thrown about with reckless regard as people cheered. Some of the more rowdy spectators even went as far to paint the colors and names of their preferred fighters onto their naked upper-bodies!

"_As you all know, due to the number of prelim rings, three additional sub-announcers have been called in to mediate the matches! Among them is Mr. Satan's personal announcer, Jody Firecracker! He will be covering block one! Upon the prelims completion, he will be acting as my co-announcer at ringside! Now, without furthera'due, let's get this party started!"_

"_Thank you, Mr. Akira!" _said Mr. Firecracker graciously. "_Whoa Nelly! And here we go! In ring Block 1, for our first match we have Hemoron vs. Rolo Yeung!"_

Answering the call, Yeung stepped into ring Block 1 and assumed a position on the side furthest from the central ring.

"_As many of you are aware, Yeung has a questionable reputation both in and out of the fighting world!! Nonetheless, this bucky youth is credited with all sorts of records including a criminal one!"_

The spectators themselves began to jeer and boo voraciously at the teen participant. For many, Yeung's actions regarding the West City branch of Mr. Satan's Karate Dojo remained fresh on their minds. Aside from Hard Copper, no other participant seemed to garner so much loathing from the general public.

"Ahh…,my fan club awaits," muttered the youth.

Just outside the ring, Fein and Mr. Satan were talking quietly amongst themselves regarding Yeung's match.

"Considering the amount of hatred the boy's soliciting from my fans, I wouldn't be surprised if there was another riot," said Mr. Satan.

"It's not just the damage he did to your dojos that has these people in a tizzy," replied Fein, "Since leaving our old school, my friend there has done some fairly heinous things."

"Like what?!" asked Satan, "What can possibly move people to hate one person so much?!"

"Yeung is a cop killer," Fein stated flatly. "His reckless disregard for authority has him branded a loose cannon among mainstream martial artists. His vigilantism and debauchery are the only things that surpass his record as a fighter. The police can't do anything about Yeung so most people settle for ostracizing him. That little stunt he pulled in West City last year didn't help matters any."

"How can that boy sleep at night?!" wondered Mr. Satan. "Considering how much hatred my fans have for him, if I were Yeung, I'd be afraid of someone killing me in my bed."

Just then, a God-awful roar rang through the entire complex. The noise produced by the monstrous sound sent much of the audience into a heated panic. From one of the field's auxiliary entrances came a terrifying beast, a T-Rex.

The dinosaur, bore its' bleached fangs menacingly as it stomped through the crowd of smaller participants. Shocked and confused by what was going on, the other participants nervously backed away from the large predator.

Upon reaching the ring, the giant dinosaur leaped into the ring just opposite of Yeungs' side. An utterly ruthless gleam in it's' eye, the creature glared daggers at the boy warrior.

"Who let this thing in here?!" shouted Yeung.

"You!" said the beast.

"Holy shit! You talk!"

"You killed my mate!" roared the T-Rex.

Cocking an eyebrow, Yeung pointed at the beast. "You mean you're my opponent?!"

"YEESSS…" hissed the dinosaur, now revealed to be Hemoron. "I'm going to bite your head off and drink the blood from your neck!"

Tepidly, Mr. Firecracker crawled into the ring and gave them the go-ahead.

"_The two of you may begin,_" informed the dark-haired announcer.

"I hope you realize that I am far stronger than my mate was," growled the deranged dino. "I don't care about the rules! You defiled my home range when you trespassed in my desert!"

The dinosaur reared up at Yeung. However, instead of coming down on the boy warrior, it just stood there, as if locked in place by something. It bore into Yeung with its' snake-like eyes, storing potential energy for the strike to come.

Yeung for his credit, arms crossed, stood there as if unimpressed. He eyed the beast calmly, preparing for whatever may be. Most of his training had been geared towards human opponents so the prospect of fighting a non-human was vexing to say the least.

In the stands, Toa Pai-Pai and his other four students sat in the row just above Master Roshi's group. Toa himself sat just behind the old Turtle Hermit. In the row down from Roshi, Bulma Breifs and Vegeta sat right in front of the old master.

"Those damned fools at the snack bar spit in my popcorn again!" gripped Vegeta, "If I get my hands on them, I'm going to cut open their stomachs and pack them with shotgun shells!"

"OH Hush!" nagged Bulma.

"Oh my God!" screamed Kato, "Master! That thing is gonna kill Yeung!"

"Kato, if you'll be quiet and watch, you might learn something," Toa explained. "The beast he's fighting there is a creature that traditional fighting theory doesn't apply to. It's like a rattlesnake preparing to throw its' head forward! Whoever makes the first move is putting everything they have into it."

"It's hard to believe how much that boy has improved and in such a short amount of time!" spoke Roshi in disbelief. "Feel that energy! If he explodes like he did at the Cell Games, he could turn this whole town into a parking lot!"

"I agree," said Krillain. "The hidden powers he showed at the Cell Games was phenomenal, even for a neophyte."

"Hmm," nodded Yamucha, "That kid already has hidden powers that far exceed anything we could have mustered up at that age. At this point, I'd say that his battle power is as high as Goku's was when he won the 23rd Tenkaichi. Hell! At that age, I didn't even know how to use ki."

"Bahh!! Humans are such pitiful specie," Vegeta harped between mouthfuls, "You call this high-level competition!? No good can ever come of humans training! Why any of them even refer to themselves as fighters, let alone warriors, is beyond me!"

Suddenly, without warning Hemoron did just as Toa predicted. He threw all forty feet and seven tons of his titanic form teeth-first behind a spring loaded lunge. As the creature flew at Yeung, its' claws drug along the tiles, digging deep gashes into the concrete floor.

Just as the sentient predator was about to clamp down on the boy, Yeung swerved to the side and allowed the beasts' own weight and inertia to do the rest.

Making an effort to double back on Yeung was too much for Hemoron's legs to withstand. He soon found that his immense size made it difficult to attain traction, even on a rough stone surface. The dinosaur skid hap hazardously until it tripped on its' own left foot. Falling forward, the reptile wound up crushing his forearms under his own weight.

"_Incredible!" _shouted the announcer, _"Now that is what you call bullfighting! Toro! Toro!"_

All around, the crowds were livid. Disappointed that Yeung had survived the first exchange, many of Mr. Satan's diehard fans began to hurl curses and projectiles into the arena with the hopes of clocking the teen fighter. Security struggled to hold the ensuing lynch mob behind the crowd control barricade.

Hemoron(Blood Dragon) meanwhile, was having a hell of a time just trying to stand up. With his forearms shattered, he had been deprived of a Tyrannosaurs' most important balancing tool. Though short, a tyrannosaurs' forearms were essential for allowing it to prop itself up. Needless to say, the creature tripped himself up repeatedly before finally attaining a standing position.

Meanwhile, Yeung stood by yawning like an arrogant ass. After taking a moment to flip off the audience, the youth shook his head in pity at the stubborn beast. What was truly sad was that an opponent as powerful as the animal before him had already done all of Yeung's work. The prelim matches had a time limit of 3 minutes, and already the giant predator had seemingly handed Yeung victory on a silver platter.

Seething in a rage, the animal again attempted a frontal assault, albeit more cautious than the first. As with the first pass, Yeung stepped to the side and allowed his reptilian opponent's inertia to again do the work. However, on this pass, his opponent had different ideas.

Pivoting all seven tons of his weight on his heal bone, Hemoron swung his tail around at the last minute, and with a spring loaded rebound, sent a tail-full of spikes Yeungs' way. The spikes forced Yeung to hit the deck to avoid being blind sighted. Seeing this as his chance to secure a , ad lizard jumped high into the air and attempted to crush Yeung under all seven tons of his weight.

Rolling onto his back, Yeung was unable to clearly see his adversary due to the sun glare. By the time he had any idea what was going on, Hemoron had landed on top of him. The force behind the resulting crash powdered the concrete tiling beneath the two combatants. Caught between a hammer and an anvil, Yeung had little room to maneuver. Just as he pried an arm loose from Hemoron's scaly claw toes, another foot clamped down to secure it. Maul open, the massive predator reared its head back for the fatal bite.

"_NO!" _warned the announcer_, "Killing your opponent is explicitly forbidden!" _

The warnings however fell on deaf ears as Hemoron went in for the kill. Looking down, it was then that Hemoron noticed something that unnerved him. Yeung was smiling….

"Do you really think this will stop me?" asked the boy arrogantly. Just then, Yeungs' body began to glow with a red ember. His subcutaneous skin and muscle tissue began to shift with such violent force that the hide on the bottom of Hemoron's foot was practically ripped off.

The massive predator fell over in a fit of agony as blood poured from his feet. Not only had Yeung's flood-rush ability filleted the hide right off his opponent's heel, it had shattered every bone in his adversaries' lower leg.

"Time to finish this!" Getting up, Yeung strode up to the downed monsters' muzzle and drew back for the final blow. However, just as his fist exploded forward, Hemoron opened his massive bone-crushing jaws and clamped down, _hard!_

Cackling menacingly between his teeth, the fallen beast went for a seven ton death-roll. He began to jerk his body violently this way and that in an attempt to take at least some part of his opponent/prey with him. It was only when he was in mid-roll that it finally donned on him: He wasn't even hurting the boy.

Truth be told, Yeung felt not even the slightest bit of pressure from the death-roll. Hell! His opponent couldn't even move his arm! The young martial artist simply stood there and chuckled at his fallen opponent's desperation.

Again, Hemoron was unnerved, so unnerved in fact that he let Yeung go. A fire had died in the lizard's eyes. It was as if the tyrant lizard king had given up hope altogether!

Stepping up to Hemoron's side, Yeung began to push the large dinosaur out of the ring. Whole tiles were forced out of place as seven tons of flesh grinded against the rebar enforced floor. Finally, with one last shove his opposition was out of the ring.

The announcer Jody Firecracker could barely contain himself as he launched into a fervor. "_And the winner is Rolo Yeung! What a display! Folks, incredible is the only way to describe it!"_

In the stands, booing and cursing reached a fever pitch. Mr. Satan's fans were really on a roll.

Upon exiting the ring, the young fighter confronted his recently downed opponent. The giant creature lay there, bleeding profusely from his injured limbs. Fearful, the Martial Arts Society's medical staff stood off to the side, not wanting to get too close to the lame predator.

"Why…," pleaded the sentient dino, "How is it that you were able to do that _thing_ back there?!"

Gently, the teen fighter laid his hand on the defeated reptile's muzzle. "It's called 'flood rush.' It's a technique that allows the user to shift his cellular structure around for various purposes. It's one of the many things I've learned in the past eight months."

Downcast, Hemoron looked away from the boy. "I never really had a chance, did I?"

"No," said Yeung shaking his head, "Even without 'flood rush' I could of simply thrown you off me. I'm sorry for what happened to your mate back in the desert but I really needed a drink of water. If you'd like, we could fight again someday."

At this, the beaten tyrannosaur smiled graciously. "Thank you…I'd like that very much."

Yeung nodded before turning and walking away. However, he was held up one last time by Hemoron…

"Human…," began the massive meat-eater, "Don't you lose before I get the chance to kill you myself!"

Turning away, Yeung was confronted by none other than Hard Copper himself.

"You were holding back in there," observed the giant.

"I'm saving it all for you big guy!" retorted the boy.

"As you should," said HC warningly, "You will be weighed, you will be measured, and I assure you that you will be found _insufficient_."

"Err…, Come on!" goaded Yeung, "We'll do this right here and now you inhuman swine!" Yeung then made a go for the Mountain King. Luckily, Fein was there to restrain him.

Grabbing the shorter teen in a full nelson from behind, the tall black fighter pulled Yeung back and slung him to the floor, where he proceeded to pin him down.

"Dammit Yeung! Cool your jets!" Fein scolded, "He's just trying to wijja!"

Hard Copper just stood there and smirked snidely at the youth. "The man I'll be facing in my next match is one of the only five people to truly entertain me! You shall see the real difference in our dimensions shortly."

All the while, the announcer for cell Block 3 ushered in the next match.

"_Our next match is between current champion Hard Copper and last year's finalist, Growser the Huckster! Will both fighters please enter cell Block 3?!" _

With that, the Native behemoth stepped into cell Block 3. Already waiting in the ring was a burly looking blond man. The man himself was dressed in a purple cape and blue military uniform. In all he looked like a knock off of Hulk Hogan.

"Growzer," stated the Mountain King cracking his knuckles, "Didn't get enough last time we fought?!"

"I've been waiting a long time for this," said the blond muscle man with contempt. "It was here one year ago that you allowed me to walk away in one piece. You remember? You said you were going to give me one more year to get stronger. One more year!"

"And so here we are," said the wily native spreading his arms wide. "This time the kit gloves are off! I'm going to test you for real!"

"WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT!" With a hoarse cry, the muscle-bound Growzer threw himself at Hard Copper. Just as he reached the large Indian, Hard Copper bolted to the side instantaneously. Spooked, Growzer jumped back.

"Why Growzer!? You disappoint me," chided the behemoth playfully. "One year and this is all you have to show for it!?"

"Err.., SHUT THE UP!" Again the blond fighter came at Hard Copper, only this time Hard Copper didn't move. Straightening his whole body out, Growzer did a standing vertical jump that flattened into a horizontal strike. Before him, he held out one arm and latched onto the massive Native's abdomen.

"Try this on for size!" shouted Growzer, "Mountain Corkscrew!" With his hand securely latched onto his giant adversary, the brutish blond fighter shifted to one side. His mountain corkscrew was a self-taught technique that allowed the user to put his whole body into a deadly twist. The aim of the twist was to wring out the victims' innards. There was just one problem: Hard Coppers' hide remained rock-solid.

Unamused, the giant tribesman grabbed his blond adversary by the wrist and jerked him into the air. Against the Mountain King, even the tall muscled blond looked like a Raggedy-Ann doll in the grip of a ten year old girl. As if rolling fresh biscuits, the massive Indian began to methodically knead the bones in his opponents' arm. The sheer forces behind this were such that Growzer's arm was spiral fractured against the rotary cuff in his elbow. Being held by the said mutilated arm, the large blond wailed in hellish torment as Hard Copper further grinded the grizzly fracture.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!" screamed Growzer. "SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!"

Hard Copper's lips curved into a most malevolent smile. "Yessss…., for the love of God." As Hard Copper hurled his adversary, he sped up the initial torque of the throw by grinding his hapless opponent's already broken arm with a gruesome clockwise twist. And with one last, sloppy rip, the titanic Indian sent the blond brute spinning out of the ring.

Browser landed in a pool of his own blood upon striking the loose earth. His broken arm had been twisted such that the fracture had punctured the skin. Blood squirted liberally from the damaged arm as small splinters of bone dripped from of gapping wound. The downed participant writhed and convulsed in shock. It didn't take long for medical personnel to rush in.

"_And the victory goes to current titleholder Hard Copper!"_ The announcer, Mr. Akira took a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow before continuing. "_Folks, I'll tell ya! If things continue like they are, North City Hospital is going to reach maximum capacity before 2:00P.M. !"_

"My God…," whispered a shocked Fein.

"What's wrong?" asked Mr. Satan.

Fein swallowed hard. "I personally knew Growzer. During my time at sea, Growzer was a constant thorn in my side. He was the strongest sailor in the Northern Kingdoms' Coast Guard. It was Growser that kept me running from the border patrol! What kind of a freak is Hard Copper?"

Mr. Satan for his part began to get jittery. In a panic, he turned to Yeung. "You've fought this guy before, right?! Please tell me you did relatively well."

Yeung shook his head somberly as he mouthed his answer to the champ. "Sorry Herc! I doubt I even left an impression."

"W-what'll I do?!"

"Relax Champ," said Yeung in an assuring manner, "You and him are on opposite ends of the roster. It's likely that you'll never get the chance to fight him."

"Besides…," started Fein, "If it did come down to a fight between you and big, tall, and ugly there, saving face in front of your fan club would be the least of your worries."

"Oh God help me…!" whimpered Satan. "I don't wanna die!" The people's champ then threw himself at Yeung's feet and began to grovel pitifully.

"Yeung!" began the older man, "You have to promise me that you'll beat that guy. With my record of public defamation against him, Hard Copper will kill me for sure!"

It was then that Yeung reached down and calmly laid his hand on Mr. Satan's shoulder. "It's OK. I'll do it! However, it's gonna cost you..."

"Anything!" wailed the Champ.

"A lifetime supply of Irish whiskey!" Yeung punctuated these last words with a toothy grin.

"_I should of guessed…," _thought the champ. "Err…, Done!"

Upon hearing this, Yeung mentally gave himself a high-five. Anyone watching closely enough could even see that Yeung had begun to drool like a dog.

"For crying out loud Yeung! Stop making a damned fool of yourself!" Fein shouted. "It's embarrassing!"

Just then, the assigned announcer for cell Block 2 blared the coming of the next fight.

"_Now then! It's time for our next fight! Can participants Fein Okonkwo and Beatrice Fitzpatrick please step into the ring?!"_

Reaching down, Fein offered a brief handshake to his longtime friend before entering the ring. "Well, wish me luck!" 

"You don't need any!"

"So true!" said Fein tying his dreadlocks back in a rigid ponytail.

Upon entering the ring, Fein was confronted with a drop-dead gorgeous women who looked to be in her late twenties. The women possessed cropped short shoulder-length lavender hair that looked as if it had been recently subjected to a curling iron. Her man-sized thighs were as big as drainpipes and her bust was broad and deep.

"_As you are all aware," began the announcer, "Beatrice and her sister Jezebel are the women's tag team champions of the International Wrestling Circuit! Both are here today! Both are ready to butt heads with the boys!"_

It was then that Fein's feminine opponent spoke up.

"Never in the history of any tournament has a women fighter reigned supreme!" The female fighter's voice carried an angry tone of righteous indignation as she continued. "I promise you that no amount of testosterone will get you out of this one!" Fein instantly frowned at this display of cockiness.

"I guess the date's off then sweetie."

Backing into a stance, the purple-haired babe braced one foot behind her. Palms out and fingers hooked, she crossed her forearms at the wrists. "Don't you dare take me lightly you pig!"

Taking his Qui, Fein dropped into the orthodox stance of the turtle style. Legs spread wide and arms brought to his flanks, Fein planted both of his unusually big feet far apart for maximum balance.

"_The fighters may begin!"_

No sooner had the announcer said that than Beatrice made her move. Leaping at Fein from across the ring, the feminine participant scaled so close to the ground that it was a wonder that she was even airborne. Then, just as she was reaching Fein, she brought her legs together in front of her and attempted to dropkick the tall, African turtle student right in the kneecap.

Initially, it seemed like a good plan. However, the end result was not what she had hoped. Upon striking Fein's kneecap, the force of her own attack burst her own kneecaps like a couple of water balloons. The female participant dropped to the ring floor and squealed like a stuck pig as cushioning body fluids seeped from between her thighs, knees, and shins.

"_Oh no! It seems Beatrice is unfit to continue," _blared the announcer. "_The winner is fighter # 37 Fein by default!"_

"Well, at least it's not my fault that she's hurt," reasoned the tall black warrior. His 'victory' finalized, Fein turned to leave the ring. Upon exiting cell Block 2, Fein was confronted with a somewhat frustrated Yeung.

"Urgh…, YOU HOSER!" hollered the muscled midget, "You didn't even do any fighting! What kind of a victory is that?! Old man Choppa is probably in the audience shaking his head with disgust even as we speak!"

"It was her fault that her legs weren't conditioned well enough."

Rubbing his temples, Yeung sighed deeply as he tried to compose himself. "Just forget I said anything…"

"I _already_ have," said Fein. "But enough about this. Aside from Sitting Bull back there, I've been getting some seriously bad vibes from someone else."

"Bad vibes?"

"Right!" affirmed the older teen, "You see…while training under Muten Roshi, I was able to familiarize myself with this awesome psychic power."

"And what does this new power have to do with anything?" Yeung asked.

"Let me finish." Fein took a moment to clear his throat before continuing. "This power is more like a sixth sense. Think about the internal compass that bees use to find their way back to the hive, only this internal compass allows me to pinpoint other living things."

"Again, you're not making it clear how this has to do with anything."

"There are worlds within worlds Yeung. Ours is but one layer on many. Overlapping our world, there is a spiritual web similar to the web of space often described in physics. Every object that contains mass distorts the web of space ever so slightly. Likewise, the ki of every living thing distorts this spiritual web. The purpose of this mental ability is to allow the user to sense the presence of nearby living creatures."

Yeung swallowed hard. "I can see how something like that could come in handy."

Fein smirked gingerly before continuing. "It gets better. After a bit of practice, the user can distinguish strong ki presences from weaker ones."

"Get the out of here!" said Yeung in disbelief, "You're saying that you already know who's likely to win this competition!"

"I didn't say that," Fein cautioned. "My senior Krillain told me that this sense can be misleading at times. Yamacha also mentioned something about ki strength changing as one fights. This is why I'm in a tizzy. Other than us and Big Chief Ugly over there, I can feel two other unusually big disturbances in the immediate area."

"Who are they?" asked Yeung.

"Krillain and Yamacha are among these big powers. Hell! Their ki presence alone is so overwhelming that I have to step back just to take it all in! However, theirs is nothing compared to this Vegeta guy that they introduced me to in the lobby! It was like being a grain of sand at the foot of Mt. Stratus. I was ing shaking! Thankfully, none of them are competing."

"What's this Vegeta guy look like?" Yeung asked.

"That's not important right now." Fein briefly looked away. "However, I will say that his ki presence is so big that it clouds over this sixth sense somewhat. The other two unusually big ki are down here among us. One of these has a ki that makes ours look like a night light!"

Fein then pointed to a bald, three-eyed man who was sitting lotus style just outside of cell Block 4. "That's him! He's the strongest guy down here!"

Yeung, upon seeing who it was, slapped his forehead and began to laugh. Fein looked at him as if he had a screw loose.

"My friend!" chuckled Yeung, "No need to worry! That is Tien Shinhan. I know him personally. What about the other one that has you worried?"

"He's over here." Fein led his shorter buddy to the other side of the field. Near an auxiliary entrance stood a blue-garbed blond adolescent male. Decked out in blue ceremonial robes, this one certainly had flare. His eyes were of a cold artic tint that seemed to stare into the soul. He was somewhat lacking in the chin and his cheekbones were modestly low. All in all, he looked like a typical pretty boy.

"That's him," said Fein. "He may not be as tough as that Tien Shinhan guy, but with the exception of Hard Copper, he's certainly stronger than any of the other participants. I'd have to say his ki feel is about as strong as my Master's."

"So what's the big deal?" asked Yeung.

"The deal is that you've got to fight him next!" informed Fein. "He's in your cell block! You didn't even watch his fight earlier!"

"It's not an issue," said Yeung assuredly, "That just means Broke-Back Mountain is gonna get a little bigger…."

"What in Sam Hill are you muttering about now?" asked Fein. "Look! It doesn't matter if you can whip Blondie over there! That Tien fella is outta both of our leagues! That means we're gonna have to settle for lower hanging fruit if we hope to walk away with any prize money."

At the mention of money, Yeung's ears instantly perked up. "I'm listening. What did you have in mind?"

"We'll work as partners to milk this bitch for every penny!" Fein explained with a wry smirk. "We'll split the total winnings between ourselves and the schools. From our dojos, each school will walk away with one-third our total take-home. We'll split what's left."

"I'm afraid that scam won't pay out," said Yeung ruefully. "With Tien set to win 1st prize, there's a chance my school's gonna wind up with the lion's share anyway. As for me, I'm bringing my prize money back to the Crane Dojo in full!"

"Well, alright!" Fein then began to arrogantly point at Yeung. "But I want you to know that all bets are off from here on out! You watch yourself! I may just be gunnin for you!" The tall, black teenager then turned and tromped off in the direction of his designated ring.

'_Fein…,'_ Yeung looked on at his former senior regrettably. _'You were always the apple of Choppoa's eye. If only you wouldn't piss on his legacy.'_

Just then, the voice of the announcer presiding over Yeung's division, Jody Firecracker, blared over the microphone.

"_Next up is Rolo Yeung vs. Bridled Fury! Based on Yeung's performance in his first match, I think it's safe to assume that this match is already decided! Will the participants please enter the ring?"_

Yeung hopped atop the concrete monolith and stood to one side. It was then that the peculiar looking blond male decked in blue robes stepped up. The strange teen fighter then walked up to Yeung and extended his hand to the shorter fighter.

"So, you are the notorious Master Yeung," quipped the blond in an arrogant yet cold tone. "Your reputation as a troublemaker precedes you."

Yeung studied the taller adolescent a moment before replying. "Let me guess. You're either an angry Satan fan or you're some street fighter that managed to get lucky and pass the 'wall of humanity.'"

"I'm no Satan fan!" sneered the blond. "I'm a , down-and-out brawler and I'm here to do the people a favor and take you down!"

Glaring daggers at one another over their shoulders, the two boys broke the handshake and put some distance between them. Even a complete boob could tell that the tension between the two was as thick as soup. Taking their respective positions on either side of the ring, the two faced off.

"I want you to know one thing Master Yeung," spoke Bridled Fury, "I am prepared to use absolutely any technique here today."

Smirking slyly with half-closed eyes, Yeung gave a tort response. "Likewise."

"_The two fighters may begin!"_

Upon receiving the announcer's affirmation, Bridled Fury spurred into Yeung in a headlong dash. Yeung on the other hand settled in and stood his ground.

Quickly closing the distance between them, Bridled Fury drew his fist back for a powerful right hook, all the while bellowing "Hard Copper is mine!"

Outside the ring, everyone observing the match gaped in jaw-dropping awe at the speed by which Yeung's opponent had bridged the breath between them. It all transpired so fast that few of them could tell what was happening.

Inside the ring however, things were a different story. To Yeung, Bridled Fury's beeline assault seemed to move in slow motion. Just as his opponent was about to strike, the teen fighter slapped his fist aside by the wrist and proceeded to backhand the taller blond. Bridled Fury soon found himself clearing face-first two layers of rebar-enforced concrete. Needless to say, the Satan fans did not like this one bit.

"_Holy Jehozevah!" _exclaimed announcer Firecracker, _"Yeung's counter was so fast that I couldn't even see it! I'll start the count! One, two, three…"_

____________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile up in the stands, as Yeung was polishing off Bridled Fury, Toa, Yamucha, and the others were giving the boy fighter their full support. This entailed occasional fistfights breaking out between the Z-Senshi and the other spectators.

"ALRIGHT! WHO WANTS SOME MORE!" During one of the ensuing brawls, an overly exited Satan fan tried to rush the Saiyan prince Vegeta only to find himself in at the other end of a piston-powered choke-slam.

"Vegeta! Take it easy!" implored Yamucha. "There's no sense killing someone over a bowl of popcorn."

Vegeta turned and belted another angered spectator, knocking all the poor guy's teeth out. "Son of a bitch should of watched where he was going!"

"Is he always like this?" asked Toa in no shortage of sarcasm.

"Worse!" mouthed Krillain. "Back in the old days he was our arch nemesis."

"He must be fairly strong then."

"You have no idea," replied Master Roshi. "Vegeta for a time was far stronger than Goku. With Goku dead, that leaves Vegeta as the world's most powerful self-described warrior."

"Is he one of your students?" asked Toa.

"No," replied Roshi flatly, "Vegeta has no school and never has based on my knowledge."

Before long, Vegeta and Yamucha had quelled the riot at the cost of half the stadium's dental history.

___________________________________________________________________________

Back in the ring, Yeung was feeling pretty confident about his ensuing win. Believing the match to be over, Yeung turned and prepared to exit the ring. However, he halted when Mr. Firecracker stopped the count short.

"_Oh my! Bridled Fury is standing up!"_

Much to Yeung's amazement, what Satan's long-time announcer sidekick said was true. Before him, Bridled Fury had somehow gotten to his feet.

Bridled Fury swayed his head from side to side as if trying to get the kinks out of his neck. Then, with one final 'pop,' he rolled his shoulders, a little shaken up but otherwise alright.

"That was a powerful counter," spoke the blond. "And what speed! Almost took my head clean off."

Yeung shook with frustration at this development. "You shouldn't be standing up right now! What the hell's going on!"

Smirking, Bridled Fury began to disrobe. "If you really must know, I'll show you."

Parting his sashes, the blond fighter revealed his secret to all. "Behold!" Under his fighting effects, the Caucasian male wore an intricate suit of springs, pulleys, resistance cables, and weighted irons. "This is why I call myself Bridled Fury!"

"That training suit is a little bit much isn't it?" Yeung questioned.

"I had this thing custom made to draw out the other seventy percent of man's physical potential!" explained the blond-haired teen. "Observe!"

Suddenly, Bridled Fury produced a key from a hidden place on his person. He then reached behind himself as if trying to reach something. After a few attempts, the golden locked teen threw his hands up in disgust and gave a time-out signal to the announcer.

"_Ohh! Bridled Fury has called for a timeout!" _said the Mr. Firecracker stating the obvious. _"It seems he wants me for something!"_

Bridled Fury had a look of embarrassment at his current predicament. "Yeah ummm…, could you unlock this neck strap for me?"

"Neck strap?" repeated the hapless announcer.

"Yeah…, I sort of can't reach it."

"Uhh…, OK!" Taking the key in hand, Mr. Firecracker reached behind Bridled Fury and inserted the key into a slot and turned. Instantly, gears hidden in the strap began to come undone and resistance cables began to fall off. With a few quick flexes of his forearms, the irons covering Bridled Fury's wrists popped off.

Standing , Bridled Fury's physique was laid bare for all to see. Every inch of his body was sculpted as if Michelangelo himself had set to work on a piece of white marble. This grand physique however, was blemished by a mishmash of red stretch marks and friction burns. These in turn were highlighted by whelps and cuts from where the training suit had dug into his flesh.

The blond participant then began to dance in a hypnotic though disturbing fashion.

"_Oh my sweet Lord!!!" _Mr. Firecracker cringed inwardly at Bridled Fury's somewhat homoerotic display. _"Folks! I don't know what to make of this! One of the participants seems to be putting on a !"_

"That is just disturbing," sneered Yeung in disgust.

Bridled Fury took a brief moment to stretch. "Aww…, I've been inside that thing for months. I'm coming out and I want the world to know!"

"You should have stayed in…," muttered Yeung.

"Well then, shall we continue?" asked BF in mock gentility. "You will soon learn why I am called 'Bridled Fury'!"

"Whatever…, Just put your shirt back on."

Author's Note: I want to clarify the age and age group of all characters both canon and original in the story. Below is a short list….

Rolo Yeung: 14(younger teen) Asian human

Hard Copper: 58(older middle-aged) Mongoloid human

Fein Okonkwo: 17(older teen) Sub-Saharan human

Tien Shinhan: (late 20s to early 30s) mutant Asian human

Bridled Fury: 17(older teen) Caucasian human

Growser: early 30s Caucasian human

Rat the Iron Bullet: late 30s Asian human

Hemoron: 79(young adult) Tyrannosaurus Rex

Mr. Satan: (late 30s to early 40s) Asian human

Videl Satan: 10(minor) Asian human

Beatrice Fitzpatrick: 25(young adult) Caucasian human

Yamucha: (late 20s to early 30s) Asian human

Krillain Chestnut: (mid 20s to late 30s) Asian human

Android 18 (early 20s) cyborg Caucasian human

Bulma Briefs: (late 20s to early 30s) Asian human

Vegeta: (early 30s) Saiyan

Piccolo: Physical age is around 14(young adult); Actual age is over 500 years. Namekian

Korin: 800(elderly) Humanoid cat deity

Muten Roshi: Over 300(elderly) nonmortal human


	16. The Ultimatum

Disclaimer: Dragonball, DragonBall Z, and all characters therein are the exclusive property of Akira Toriyama, Bird Studios, and Toei Animation.

Chapter 16: The Ultimatum

"_Ladies and Gentlemen! In light of Bridled Fury's shedding of baggage, one can only guess what's about to transpire! With only four minutes left in this match, he'd better do something soon otherwise the win will revert to Rolo Yeung by default!"_

Up in the stands, Satan fans began to goad and cheer Bridled Fury into action. Shouts of "Get'em Fury!" and "I paid good money to see that bastard powned!" rang throughout the stadium.

"The clock is ticking," Yeung pointed out.

BF smiled inwardly. "So it is… I guess I'd better give the people what they want."

Bringing up his guard, the blond teen lowered himself into a classic peek-a-boo stance. The peek-a-boo stance is a stance often employed by infighting technicians both for the maximum head protection it offers and for it's versatility.

"_Soo_…that's how you want it?" Yeung spread his footing wide. "Fine then! We will finish this on your terms." Yeung followed suit by going into octagon form.

"Err…LET'S DO THIS!"

It was then that the two under aged combatants flew into one another at full force. Drawing back a hard right simultaneously, their iron fists collided with such force that outside the ring, the other participants could hear the booming 'thump' work it's way up from the ring foundation.

"_Incredible!" _shouted announcer Firecracker_, "You can just feel the power cascading off these two youths!"_

From the start of the engagement, it became blatantly clear who controlled this fight. The kick of the initial collision threw Bridled Fury back violently, causing the older teen to stagger punch-drunk. Bringing his guard back into the peek-a-boo stance, Bridled Fury intercepted a hard right just in the nick of time. All this however, was for nothing. The force of his opponent's strike was so strong, that his entire right flank was blown back yet again.

Wasting no time, Yeung was quick to exploit the opening. Following in with another hard right, he smashed Fury's frontal lobe with so much inertia, that Fury's eyes looked as if they had bugged out. Falling backwards, Fury skid all the way to the edge of the ring before finally coming to a stop.

The announcer, Mr. Firecracker, mad-dashed around the ring to where Fury had taxied. Breaking out a small mirror, the middle-aged man held it up to Bridled Fury's nose to check for breathing. Putting up a victory sign, Mr. Satan's longtime announcer sidekick gave the tournament officials assurance that the blond fighter had lived.

Just then, Bridled Fury began to twitch. Slowly opening his eyes, it seemed as if the whole world was spinning. Clawing at the concrete floor, he unconsciously scraped the meat off his fingertips in an effort to pull himself up and back into the fight.

"_Damned!"_ BF cursed mentally, "_Who is this guy?!"_

Stepping up from behind, Yeung reached down and yanked Fury's head back by the hair so that Fury was facing him.

Exploiting the close proximity to his opponent, Fury reached out and grabbed both sides of Yeung's head, and using his opponent's squat upper body for leverage, jack-knifed himself into a headstand with his head's crown lined up right above Yeung's.

"LET'S SEE WHO'S HEAD'S HARDER!" It was then that Bridled Fury brought all two-hundred pounds of his body's weigh headfirst onto Yeung's cranium. A truly gut-wrenching sound reminiscent of hamburger extruded through a tube filled the air.

Disoriented and confused, Yeung hobbled back as Bridled Fury continued to stride him with his patented 'Piston Headbutt.' Finally, pushing off, Fury let into Yeung with a vicious finger-jab combination to the face.

"WHY WON'T YOU FALL?!" screamed Fury leading in with another solid jab. Again, Yeung stood firm, not even remotely affected by his opponent's assault.

Smacking his gums a few times, Yeung spat out a loose tooth before speaking. "You're strong, I'll give you that much…If we had fought a year ago, this would have been a good match! However, it's a year later, and you don't stand a chance against me!"

"Err..WHAT!?" screeched the Caucasian fighter disbelievingly.

Again, Yeung barreled into Bridled Fury and kept the pressure on the older adolescent. Every time a hook to the face would knock Fury one direction, Yeung would follow suite with a second pulverizing hook that threw his opponent back into what amounted to a meat grinder.

By the end of this heinous assault, Bridle Fury's face looked like a blood-stained purple catcher's mitt. Left to fall to the tiles, his face smacked against the floor with a sick sounding, wet 'thud.'

"This can't be happening….," wheezed BF, "It can't end like this!"

"Hmph! You're not worth my full strength."

At this proclamation, Fury was taken back. "Huh?"

"Clean the wax out of your ears!" said Yeung snidely. "I've been holding back this entire time! I can't afford to waste my real power on someone like you!"

"You're full of it!" mouthed Fury spitting. "If you're as strong as you'd like me to believe than why don't you prove it?!"

A crooked smile crept it's nasty little way upward as Yeung spoke, "No offense dude but you don't look like you can handle it."

"Why did you get as strong as you have?" asked Yeung. "I mean…breaking the 'wall of humanity' is something that very few people manage to do."

"Fine!" muttered Fury. "It was my grandpa. Two years ago, my grandpa fought Hard Copper in the semi-finals. Hard Copper berated our style as he tortured him! My grandpa was a proud man! He did everything he could not to let that monster hear him scream! In the end, Hard Copper destroyed his skills…"

Bridled Fury took a moment to collect himself before continuing. "After the tournament was over, Gramps died in the hospital. His last request to me was that I devote my life to proving that standard fighting theory can be just as competitive as the ancient martial arts!"

"And that is the reason why you could never win against me much less Hard Copper," Yeung explained.

Just then, the announcer Mr. Firecracker, chimed in. _"Need I remind the combatants that you are fighting on the timer!"_

"I see that a war of ideas will have to be put off for another day," Fury said with a smile.

Yeung couldn't help but return a smirk of his own. "So it seems…I guess I outta show you that real strength I was talking about."

Instantaneously, Yeung phased out of Fury's field of vision. Startled, Fury jerked fitfully ever which way in hopes of spotting the shorter teen fighter.

Up in the stands, Toa Pai-Pai and Master Roshi continued to study Yeung's movements….

"He has significant speed," remarked the old Turtle Hermit. "I wouldn't expect someone with such a short, bulky frame to move that quick!"

"He's still a clots!" said Toa. "All that training and he still has two left feet! He can do submission holds but he can't fight his way out of them! This is what happens when you prepare for a certain fight in hast. If I were Tien, I'd let me train the boy for another three months! Bridled Fury would have never been able to perform that gay-assed headbutt on me!"

"However, little by little Yeung is showing his true abilities," responded Roshi. "Aside from Tien, Yeung could easily be the strongest contestant at this tournament."

"Strongest yes! Skilled? That matter is still in the air."

"Did he disappear!?" wondered the blond grappler aloud. All of a sudden…

"_Hello_." Yeung materialized out of nowhere and with one outstretched finger, jabbed his opponent at the base of the spine. In no time, Fury's legs began to buckle and the blond fighter crashed to his hands and knees.

Reaching around the downed fighter's neck, the teen warrior slashed his thumb across the tip of Fury's chin. As for Fury, the lights were on, but no one was home.

"_One…Two…Three…Four…Five…Six….Seven…Eight…Nine…annnd Ten! That's it everyone! Bridled Fury is out cold! Rolo Yeung advances to the next round!"_

The crowd of vengeful spectators grew ever more vindictive. Still more booing and cursing were thrown at Yeung. With things continuing to get ever more out of hand, the police and the facility's security detail were starting to get nervous.

Back with Toa and Roshi's group, Vegeta and Yamucha were being confronted by the cops. Combined, the two of them had KO'd over fifty rioters. Needless to say, Vegeta was getting ready to add to that number.

"Look buddy!" said the officer warningly, "I'm just saying that if this starts again, we're gonna have to escort you and your friend over there out of the premises!"

"I'll go when I'm damned well ready!" snapped the Saiyan prince. "I haven't even got my hot dog yet!"

"That's it!" shouted the officer. Motioning for two other personnel that were with him, the officer whipped out a knife stick. "We're taking you, your friend, and every one of these guys you knocked out down to the station on charges of disturbing the peace!" However, before the police could do anything, another rush of angry Satan fans tackled them from behind and began to wail on them severely. Some of them even made another go at Vegeta and Yamacha.

"I'm gonna sit some place else if this keeps up," nagged Toa. "Can't believe this shit! I paid good money for these seats!"

"Maybe we could jump down onto the field and have a ringside view," the old Turtle Hermit suggested. "With all the security up here, no one's really gonna care that much and who knows!? I might get lucky and land me a pair of Beatrice's panties."

Grudgingly, Toa got up to follow old man Roshi to ringside. He still couldn't figure out how with such a childish, perverted teacher, the Turtle School managed to accomplish as much as it had. It had to have been some cruel joke of the gods.

Down in the field, Yeung was confronting Fein…

"So much for that sixth sense of yours," said Yeung suredly, "That guy was a punk!"

Upon seeing Yeung so abhorrently dominant in his match with Bridled Fury, Fein found himself in a state of both shock and awe. It was not too long ago that Yeung was his junior. Now however, he found himself doing a great deal of introspection and he didn't like it one bit.

"That was impressive," Fein remarked with a barely stifled 'gulp'. "I'd like to know how you knocked him cold like that."

"A true artist doesn't give away all his trade secrets."

At the time that Yeung's match with Bridled Fury had transpired, Hard Copper too had been watching with boundless anticipation….

"_Nerve strikes huh..?!_" The oversized native grinned in a truly sickening fashion. "_Child's play fit for a child!_ _That's all it is. You'll need more than that when we finally meet…"_

The large Indian had entered the ring for his own respective match. Awaiting him in Cell block 3 was the Mongolian wrestler that Yeung had talked to earlier in the locker rooms.

The man bore into Hard Copper with a look of disgust. "It's been a while hasn't it?"

"So it has…," HC retorted. "Listen! You know as well as I do that mediocrity such as yours isn't worthy of wiping the crud from my asshole. In light of this, I have a proposition for you."

Just like that, the look of the wrestler in question went from disgust to virulent anger. Hard Copper practically lived on messing with his opponent's ego.

"Here's my proposition. I'll give you one chance to walk away. Otherwise, I'll amuse myself with you the best way I can. Death is like fine wine! It should not be rushed. One should savor it and enjoy it's sweet, sweet aroma!"

Hard Copper's opponent began to smile in turn. "No thanks! Even if I lose this match, I'm gonna do all I can with it to make sure you are in no condition to continue this tournament."

Upon hearing this, the Mountain King began to laugh maddeningly. "Either way's fine with me. This is more fun anyhow!"

"Yeung will beat you!" asserted the wrestler.

"I'm afraid that your hopes are misplaced," spoke the giant, "I only allowed that boy to live for the very reason I allow anyone to live. To entertain me!"

With that, Hard Copper barreled into the smaller wrestler and snared him by the throat. It all happened so fast that the wrestler didn't have time to see it coming. The tribesman then jerked him right off the ground so that he was suspended in midair.

"Now…, how would you like to have it?" asked the Indian playfully. "This is about the only enjoyment I tend to get until the Finals so don't spoil it for me!" 

The wrestler for his part was shaking in his boots. He tried to signal his forfeiture, but Hard Copper had his windpipe clamped so tightly that only mewling noises escaped his lips. All of a sudden, he felt a painful intrusion spread into his ribcage like hot fire.

"_Oh my sweet Lord!"_ quivered cell Block 3's announcer, "_Human beings just don't do this to each other!_ _People, don't let your children watch this! Nightmares don't compare!"_

Wailing like a puppet suspended above a stage, the man looked down to behold a truly gruesome sight. Lodged in the wrestler's ribcage was Hard Copper's other hand, it's fingers filleting the intercostals tissue like a knife through butter. The Mountain King cackled grotesquely as his hand deftly found it's mark between the shoulder blade and the ribs. What followed was a resounding, wet 'crick'.

Smiling like a sadistic, serial rapist, Hard Copper went off on a rant. "Aside from the plural tissue located between the lungs and the rib cage, one of the most problematic injuries facing an athlete is a rib fracture right below the shoulder blade! How's about we let the people in the stands know just how you feel?"

Just then, Hard Copper released his hold on the man's trachea and fish-hooked him on a finger just below the sternum. Hanging from the vicious giant's phalange, the wrestler screeched in exquisite terror, squirts of blood accentuating the ghastly scene.

In the stands, screams and pleads rained down from on high. All around, shouts of "That's Enough!" and "SOMEBODY MAKE IT STOP!" were heard.

Down in the field, Yeung had had just about enough of this mindless torture. Sure, he was no angel, but what Hard Copper was doing was something altogether different.

"STOP IT!!" screamed the boy. Upon catching his voice, Hard Copper dropped the mangled wrestler.

The two of them locked glares as if frozen in place and time. Then, the brutal tribesman motioned for the announcer who had paled a few shades. Skittishly, the announcer stepped into the ring. The contestants in the other three prelim rings halted their own respective matches so that they could hear what the crazed champion had to say.

Taking the microphone in hand, Hard Copper began to address his adversary. "_Stop it? Stop it he says!? Hahahaha….Why? This match has four minutes left and you want me to stop!"_

Jody Firecracker handed Yeung his own mic so that the audience could hear both sides of the drama unfold.

"_You'd better!"_ growled the teen fighter. "_Stop this crazy shit!"_

"_Oh, I'll stop!" _chided the massive Korin Indian. _"However, I'm going to raise the stakes a bit!" _

The monstrous brute paused a moment before continuing. "_If you can't beat me, I'm going to kill every single person who participated in this competition!"_

Upon hearing this, murmurs of panic began to spread through the stands. However, these were soon silenced by Hard Copper's continuance…

"_And I'll be visiting North City Hospital first! I'm sure the infirm of North City could use a little company! Heck, maybe a visit from the champion will leave an 'impression'!"_

Leaving the ring, the megalith, mountain king tossed the mic back to the announcer who in turn was quick to scamper away. His sinister laughter echoed through the field, as the other participants gave him a wide breath.

"It's one thing to be a murderer," Toa began. "It's a whole nother matter entirely when someone enjoys it."

"That guy is one sick puppy," said Master Roshi. "We're gonna have to have Yamucha and Tien on standby as soon as the tournament's over. Something tells me he isn't going to be satisfied with losing."

"What are you two doing down here?"

Toa and Roshi snapped around to find Tien had snuck up behind them.

"Err.., We wanted some better seats!" lied Roshi hastily.

"You just wanted to swipe a pair of Beatrice's undergarments from the locker rooms!" said Mercenary Toa accusingly, "Seriously, how you Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtle knockoffs ever got along at all is beyond me!"

The act of someone disparaging his school was one thing the old Turtle Hermit would not stand for. "Err…I'll have you know Toa that my school has accomplished more than you can ever hope to imagine!"

"Your Turtle School has had a run of good luck. I'll give you that! However, that's all going to change soon! Your prodigy Son Goku is gone and Yeung is gonna one day fill the power vacuum!"

"Hah!" shouted Master Roshi, "Like hell he will! Even if that boy had twenty years, he still wouldn't measure up to Goku!"

"Five years is all Yeung will need to surpass that recently deceased pineapple-haired monkey!" argued Toa. "Mark my words you aged fucknut! Yeung will someday be stronger than any of us!"

"The preliminaries are almost over," said Tien interrupting the two. "Just thirty more fights. I haven't seen anyone very strong upon entering, not that I intended to."

"Well you, Yamucha, Krillain, and Choatzu are in a league of your own," said Master Roshi, "And that's not even counting Vegeta! That reminds me…Why did you enter anyway?"

The triclops smiled widely before answering. "To be honest, I wanted to see just how far Yeung has come since I left him with the Crane dojo. What better way to find out than to try him for myself?"

Yeung, in the meantime, was seething with venom at the display of utter brutality that Hard Copper had put on earlier. The wrestler that he had met in the locker rooms was likely being hauled off to an emergency ward at the very hospital that Hard Copper was set to attack after the tournament. That wrestler, as well as Growser from before could very well be crippled for life. They'd be helpless!

Yeung did all he could to keep his anger in check. Veins popped on his forehead and a dim ember of red energy began to emanate from his being. In addition to dilating, his pupils began to glow with a faint, white ether. Loose pebbles and blades of grass casually rose from the ground and were flung to the wayside by the effects that his rising battle power were having on the surrounding area.

Just then, Tien stepped up behind him. Being preoccupied with his own issues, Yeung didn't seem to notice the burly triclops. Tien took a moment to study Yeung in silence.

"_Incredible!" _the three-eyed warriorsaid to himself, "_His battle power is skyrocketing just like it did at the Cell Games. What kind of Pandora's box did I pick up?"_

Tien grimaced internally. Regardless of whether Yeung did well in the remainder of his matches, Tien knew that he would have to keep his promise to give the boy further training. Even now, Yeung was further along at fourteen than Tien had been at twenty-five. A lot of this could be attributed to Toa's use of anabolic steroids and testosterone injections. However, there was also a part of him that believed Yeung was destined to come far. This part of him believed that Yeung had gotten too powerful too fast. Because of this, he had mixed feelings about helping the boy go further. For everything the kid had acquired from Toa in the past eight months, there were so many other things that were left to flounder.

Just then, Yeung turned to see Tien standing over him. A little ways behind him were his Master, the mercenary Toa Pai Pai, and Kamesinnen Muten Roshi who were arguing over something or other.

"Hello Yeung," greeted the triclops.

"Hi," said Yeung flatly.

Tien could tell immediately that the recent happening was starting to have an emotional effect on the boy. Crouching down, the older man sat beside the teen wonder.

"Tien," began Yeung, "Promise me something."

"Sure! What is it?"

Yeung gripped the leg of his pants so hard, blood stains began to form on the fabric. "Promise me that if I lose to that monster, you won't let him hurt anyone else! Alright! Please promise me that!"

Tien smiled warmly before laying a hand upon Yeung's shoulder. "You don't even have to ask. I'd never let someone like him harm anyone."

"Thanks," smiled the boy.

"Besides," said Tien, "You'll beat him so I don't have to!"

"I appreciate the confidence."

Just then the announcer Jody Firecracker began to hearken on the next match.

"_Our next battle will be held between Rolo Yeung and Master Lee of the West City Karate Dojo! As many of you know, Mr. Lang has a deep-seeded grudge against Yeung regarding an incident more than eight months prior in which Yeung single-handedly trumped Mr. Satan's entire West City franchise. Regardless of your personal feelings towards the boy, you have to admit that his fighting record isn't one to sneeze at!" _

Tien removed his hand from Yeung's shoulder and sat up. "I look forward to seeing you in the finals."

With a curt nod to his three-eyed friend, Yeung readied himself for his next fight. Upon entering the ring, Yeung approached his opponent.

Looking closely, Yeung couldn't help but notice the massive scar that ran all the way over Master Lee's cranium. It was there over eight months ago that Yeung had ripped the large fighter's scalp off in a back alley street brawl.

Master Lee looked down at the short teen warrior with barely bridled contempt. "Don't even try apologizing to me you little pussy fart! Thanks to you, I lay in a hospital bed for three months. After this next match, I promise you that if I ever see you in public again I'll pop a cap in your ass!"

Without a word even said on Yeung's part, the two combatants broke off and headed to their respective sides of the ring.

"I want you to know that my time spent in the rehab gym of the West City Hospital was geared entirely towards getting ready for this fight!" explained Lee. "I did everything I knew to bridge the gap that existed between you and me. It was there that I outgrew Mr. Satan's teachings. Men like us can't be bound to our master's apron strings forever!"

"Then you've used your time well," remarked Yeung.

"_The contestants may begin!"_

As opposed to what his last two opponents did, Master Lee stood firm, neither backing away or moving forward to intercept Yeung. This man was in it to play smart.

Fists resting to either side, Lee just stood there as if daring Yeung to step up. Skulking forward a bit, Yeung could almost make out a grumbling coming from the older man. "Come on! Come on! I want you to do it…Hit me!"

Surging forward, Yeung doubled over the karate instructor with a tempered uppercut. Staggering, the West City Karate Dojo's shidoshi fell flat on his face before unceremoniously blacking out.

"Well…," began Yeung softly, "At least he had the right idea." As soon as Mr. Firecracker confirmed the knockout, the youth left the ring."

"_Well, there you have it!"_ blared the announcer, "_Master Lee didn't have a prayer!"_

Outside the ring, Yeung found himself confronted by Mr. Satan who was flanked by his top two students Caroni and Paroski. The fact that the two Satan pupils had entered with their teacher didn't seem all that important to Yeung considering that the two men weren't much better than their instructor.

"You know…," started Mr. Satan, "If Lee continues to lose to you like this, it's eventually gonna prompt him to retire."

"I have a feeling that he'll try again one day," said Yeung. "Hating me seems to have inspired him. I wouldn't count him short."

Just then, Fein ran up to the group.

"Well, I guess that means the preliminaries are over," said Fein.

"For some odd reason, I think I got saddled with all the tough opponents during the prelims," muttered Yeung. "If you had fought Bridled Fury, you'd have gotten your ass kicked."

"That's why I'm glad I didn't fight him," admitted the taller adolescent, "By the time we were through, I'd be too worn out to continue."

"Uh-oh! Stop the presses!" chided Yeung, "Fein has just admitted he's half-assed!"

Off to the side, Mr. Satan and his students were conferring…

"You've gotta feel sorry for the guys that fought Hard Copper," said Mr. Satan with a twinge of remorse. "Three of them were damned good fighters! One of them I knew personally. They'll likely have to retire due to massive injuries."

"I still feel bad about Mistro Lee!" Piroski added in his Russian dialect. "We all go way back. This is err…like the 2nd time he has lost to same opponent! He trained so hard, injuries or no!"

"It's almost looking as if the real fight is gonna be between Yeung and the Mountain King," said Caroni in a shot a stating the obvious. "Our school's franchise might be visible, but the school itself just doesn't seem to be a major factor in this tournament."

The burly man Paroski mulled over this. "Being recognized as victors of Cell Games raised our profile but it sure as hell did not help our fighting ability. After National Budokai is over, we rededicate ourselves to training, yes?"

"Hmm…," nodded Satan. The large afroed Polynesian stroked his mustache furtively. "It's starting to look as if we're gonna be dealing with guys like Yeung and Fein more often. God! I wish I had a drink right now! By the way, where's your manager?"

"Miss Pizza got pregnant," explained Caroni. "Her appointment at the Orange Star City abortion clinic was scheduled for today. She said that she would be setting her VCR on recording. If it's not one thing, it's another."

Just then, Mr. Firecracker came jogging up to the group followed by a small gaggle of journalists.

"Hi Joe," greeted Mr. Satan briefly throwing his hand up.

"Hey! I'd like to take the time to compliment you all on your spectacular performances in the preliminaries! Again, sorry Paroski. Megaton was a tournament newbie so it's conceivable that you would lose. No one knew a thing about him."

Paroski for his part heaved with a deep sigh. "Aehh…, you win some, lose some, no?"

"The same goes for you Caroni," said Mr. Firecracker. "Still, Jezebel was quite the opponent!"

Caroni shot a pouty look at the announcer. Firecracker for his part sensed that he wasn't winning any points with his longtime associates. Doing a double-take, the man attempted to change subjects.

"This is the first year in which the prelims have been open to the public so we didn't know what to expect having four separate announcers for four separate blocks. I just hope we didn't put off the audience too much. The press had a particularly hard time keeping things organized!"

"Then I'll have to talk to the President of the Martial Arts Society and see if we can try something different next year," spoke the Champ. "That guy owes me a favor anyway… Can't have them getting bad shots of me when I'm at my greatest!"

"Right…, It's not fair to your fans!" added Mr. Firecracker. "Anyway, I was told to bring all the finalists into the central ring. We're gonna start the draw to determine the order in which the matches will be held. Will you please come with me? Also, where are Fein Okonkwo, Tien Shinhan, and Rolo Yeung?"

The Champ motioned over his shoulder to where Yeung and the others were meeting off to the side.

"Hey kid!" Yeung turned to see the announcer from his prelim block.

"Wow boy! You're looking good!" said Mr. Firecracker complimenting the teen terror. "You've changed so much since you participated in the Cell Games! At first, I had trouble believing that was really you."

Flexing his right arm, Yeung smiled with pride. "I've put on bulk and inches. Bring on the world! You're that guy from 'Super Fighters' aren't you?"

"Mmmhmm," nodded the man, "I've followed Mr. Satan, Piroski, Spopovitch, and other professional contenders in the 'Super Fighters' circuit for over twenty years and I've never seen someone who can bring what you can to the table! You're outstanding! No…outstanding isn't the word for it! Supernatural…that's it!"

"And I'm his faithful sidekick!" declared Fein, trying to take a smidge of credit.

"Who is this?" asked Mr. Firecracker.

Fein was absolutely flabbergasted. "Uhh…, you didn't see how cool I looked out there?!"

Jody Firecracker didn't seem one bit interested. "Nope. I was too busy watching this tournament's rising star." Mr. Firecracker began to playfully ruffle Yeung's hair. "Will you all come with me?"

"Now I understand how Senior Krillain feels…" Fein muttered.

Slowly, Yeung, Mr. Satan, Fein, and Tien followed Mr. Satan's long-time friend and coworker into the central ring. Waiting there were the other finalists, including Hard Copper. Before them, was Mr. Akira who was standing behind a makeshift table with cardboard box on it. The box itself had a sizable hole cut into the top. Off to the side were a couple of tournament officials who had set up a chalkboard displaying the roster.

Upon entering the ring, Yeung took a moment to look over the other finalists. Among them was the strange monk-looking man that Yeung had bumped into in the locker rooms. The man continued to stare at him in a most sinister way. There was a woman who aside from height and build, looked similar to Beatrice from earlier.

The most disturbed looking of these combatants looked like an invertebrate that one would see clinging to the ocean floor. This was a creature that had no skin or connective tissues to speak of. From what Yeung guessed was it's mouth erupted plumes of green miasma that coalesced into a gray rain cloud above it's head.

"OK people! Listen up!" shouted the announcer. "This is how we're gonna do this! I will call your names and you will step forward and draw a numbered ball from the box! That number will determine your placement in the quarterfinals!"

"First up is Spopovitch!" declared announcer Akira.

Upon hearing the name, a large, muscle-bound red-head wearing a knockoff Tarzan costume stepped up to the table. Reaching into the box, he drew number 15.

"Spopovitch is number 15! Next on the list is Jezebel!"

The woman bearing a resemblance to Beatrice stepped forward and drew her lot. She in turn pulled a number 10.

"Jezebel Fitzpatrick is number 10! Alright, next is our hero Mr. Satan!"

"Oh yeah!" drawled Mr. Satan enthusiastically. The afroed man pulled number 16.

"The World Champion is number 16!" Upon hearing this, the Satan fans in the stands went ape-hit.

"Mmmhmm…, next is Fein!"

Without a word, the tall teenager walked forward and drew his number which happened to be 6.

"Fein Okonkwo is number 6! Now, will Punter please come forward!"

It was then that a massive, portly Arab Persian man came out from behind the rest of the contestants. Reaching into the box, he drew number 12.

"Punter is number 12! Will Snoozenheimer please come here?"

Snoozenhimer was an obese Bavarian German dressed in Yodeler's overalls. He seemed a bit tipsy coming up to the table.

"Are you gonna be OK?" asked the announcer. Ignoring the question entirely, the drunk Bavarian pulled out number 3.

"Hmm…Snoozenheimer is number 3! Next is Inside-Out!"

Slogging forward, the otherworldly invertebrate like creature made it's way to the front. Sliding in a mucus covered hand, it/he brought out number 14.

"Inside-Out! You are number 14! Next up is Siafu!"

An enormous humanoid leopard came forward casting predatory glances ever which way. It's fangs were so long, they protruded from it's upper jaw. The jungle cat dived it's paw into the box, fishing up number 7.

"Lucky number 7 it is! Would Rat the 'Iron Bullet' please come here?"

The mysterious bald Buddhist monk who had up to this point been gunning for Yeung came up to the table. Briefly casting a sickening glance Yeung's way, the man plucked ball number 2 from the box.

"Hmm…, Rat is number 2! Next up is former World Champion, Tien Shinhan!"

On his draw, Tien pulled a 13.

"And Tien is number 13! Calling Killa! Are you here?"

Just then, a big, black man who had been sitting got up and approached the table.

"Killa is number 11! Next is Megaton! There's Megaton, right there!"

The one called Megaton was an anomaly of nature; a walking, talking rock possessing an asymmetrical body. Standing seven feet tall and weighing in at over three thousand pounds, this basalt monster was a true heavyweight.

Reaching into the box, the creature nearly split the table in half. Upon pulling out, the rocky golem opened his baseball glove sized hand to reveal a half-crushed rubber ball bearing the number 5.

"Megaton is number 5! Write that down would you? Next we have 'The Dragon'!"

The said contestant stepped forward and withdrew a number 4.

"Next is Rolo Yeung!"

Coming up to the table, Yeung fished a number 1 from the box.

'_Once again, I'm at the start of the roster…,' _

"Yeung is number 1! Will Ackmed please come here?"

Yet another portly Middle Eastern man came up to the table. Sporting a turban and a thick beard, the contestant in question looked like an Imam. His number came out to be 9.

"You're number 9 Ackmed! And last but not least, this tournament's current champion Hard Copper, the Mountain King! Make some room people!"

Shoving some of the other contestants aside, the vicious warrior yanked out a number 8.

Adding a dashing spin for emphasis, Mr. Akira turned to address the audience before conferring with the participates themselves. "And there we have it folks! The lineup for the 16th National Budokai has been decided!"

"Each one of you symbolizes the epitome of fighting sports. Each of you has trained hard, dug deep, and fought your way through the ranks to emerge on the national stage. However, for those of you who are from out of country, I must warn you that your non-National status will result in the deduction of a lofty surtax from your winnings. I will now turn the stage over to my esteemed colleague Jody Firecracker."

Clearing his throat, Mr. Satan's longtime announcer sidetrack picked up where Mr. Akira left off. "OK everyone! Let's go over the rules. Your matches will have no time limit. I'm sure many of you are aware that the Tenkaichi Tournament has recently had time limits placed on it's matches. The Martial Arts Society's Board of Directors has done this in light of past incidences in which the final round has lasted way past what is considered palatable. Such instances include the 21st Tenkaichi Tournament's final match between Son Goku and Jackie Chun as well as the 22nd tournament's final match between Tien Shinhan and Son Goku. Fortunately, the national level has yet to have time limits placed on it's matches. However, other rules remain standard. You lose if you fall out of the ring, give up, are knocked out, or if you kill your opponent. There is however a stipulation on the last rule. If the combatant is sure that his/her opponent is trying to use excessive force in the match, you are allowed to do what is necessary to bring the match to a halt. This last rule was put into place in regards to our current champ's excessive use of force."

A wry smile graced Hard Copper's lips upon hearing this. "It's not my fault my toys break so easily."

Power Levels:

Average Human: 5

Rolo Yeung: 281

Fein: 175

Hard Copper: 302

Bridled Fury: 140

Mercenary Toa: 190

Master Roshi: 130

Master Lee: 45

Mister Satan: 32


	17. Get Rich or Die Tryin!

Chapter 17: Get Rich or Die Trying

And so it was that the roster of the Northern Kingdom's 16th annual National Budokai was decided. Each contestant had fought gallantly to work his way up the pecking order, some more so than others.

"_Sports fans!" _Mr. Akira blazed, addressing the people in the stands_, "Are you ready for the hoe-down of the century!?!" _His response was typical. The real martial arts enthusiasts went nuts and the Satan fans were just plain nuts!

Taking this as his queue, Mr. Firecracker decidedly to took the ball and ran with it. "_Than you've come to the right place because the quarterfinals of the North Kingdom's National Budokai are about to begin!"_

"_Thanks Jody! Before we begin however, let's give a big hand to both our current Tenkaichi Budokai Champ, Mr. Satan and\as well as Mr. Siks of the Ironman Bauxite Cooperation for their tireless work in promoting this event!"_

There was no shortage of applause from those in the stands. Mr. Akira for his part couldn't help but grimace at the giant Ironman Corp logo painted onto the skybox overlooking the field. Silently, he wondered if there were others in the vicinity who felt the same.

"Hard Copper retains his title through carnage and that slime-ball Siks stands to make a killing off the proceeds…"

Thinking back on last years' Nationals, the blonde announcer inwardly cringed. He was so preoccupied on this tangent, he failed to notice his colleague Mr. Firecracker approaching from behind.

"Alfred, something bothering you?"

Looking back at the dark-haired man, Mr. Akira gave a deep shrug. "Just thinking about the old days…back when Goku and Tien ruled the roost."

"You knew Goku right?" asked Mr. Satan's longtime sidekick.

"Hmm…," nodded Akira. "He redefined the boundary between the impossible and the possible. He was an old friend of mine. When I heard from Yamucha that Goku had recently passed away, it sort of struck a soft spot. I wanted to go to his funeral, but his wife forbade it for whatever reason. Goku-san would never have stood for the corporate takeover of the Martial Arts Society!"

"Well you shouldn't dwell on it too much!" warned Mr. Firecracker. "It was your staunch opposition to some of the Martial Arts Society's reforms that cost you your seniority at last year's Tenkaichi Tournament! Be grateful that I kept you out of the meat grinder!"

"To tell you the truth Jody," began Mr. Akira, "I'm sort of happy now. I've been an announcer at tournaments like this for decades and my experience has given me a vibe. I don't know why but I sense brighter days ahead for the martial arts world."

"It's that Yeung kid isn't it?"

"Mmmhmm," nodded announcer Akira, "But it's not just him. There are several really good fighters that have emerged in the past couple of years. They are leagues ahead of what I've seen since Son Goku and his affiliates retired from sports martial arts! Tien Shinhan coming back alone was an eyebrow raiser."

Upon hearing the name of Mr. Shinhan, Jody crossed his arms with a 'huff'. "I don't really know much about Tien besides the fact that like Son Goku, he used special effects to put on a show for latter day fanfare."

"You've just never seen what he can do," explained Mr. Akira matter-a-factly. "His skills as a former world champion are legendary!"

"However, this Tien Shinhan guy can't possibly measure up to Mr. Satan!" huffed Mr. Firecracker. "This Tien might have been good in his time, but I've seen first-hand what Mr. Satan is capable of!"

"Would you like to make a wager on it?" Mr. Akira goaded.

Grinning from ear to ear, Jody Firecracker chided boastfully, "Stop the presses! Alfred Akira's setting himself up to lose!"

Announcer Akira laughed assuredly at his colleague. "No seriously! I'll bet 1500 zeni that should Tien Shinhan and Hercule Satan meet in the final round, Tien Shinhan will glass him!"

"Agreed!" The two announcers shook on it, finalizing the deal. Little did they realize that the whole stadium was glaring daggers at them for holding up tournament proceedings.

"Ahem…"

Turning around, the two co announcers found the president of the Martial Arts Society with his arms crossed tapping his right foot impatiently.

"Uh….," began Mr. Akira.

"I-I guess we better get back to work," sputtered Mr. Firecracker nervously.

"_Errr…, moving right along, we will now set the stage for the first round of the quarterfinals!"_

"_Mmmhmm,_" nodded announcer Jody Firecracker, "_And I must say Mr. Akira, this first match is a humdinger, for in our opening bout we have the teen terror Rolo Yeung vs. the mysterious contestant Rat the Iron Bullet!_"

"_As many of you are probably aware, the promise of fast wealth has graced many tournaments with the ever-growing problem of cheating!" _explained Mr_._ Firecracker_. _

"_In light of this, special regulatory proceedings have been enacted across the board,"_ finished the second announcer, _"For one, all participants will be checked for weapons before each individual match!"_

Yeung and his opponent Rat approached a pair of tournament officials dressed in orange monk attire. The two fighters withstood a battery of examinations that entailed pockets, if any were present, brief pat-downs, and orifices.

As this was happening, Rat cast a sadistic sneer longingly Yeung's way as if the boy were a piece of meat.

'_This is it!' _said Rat to himself. '_Time to kill this little fucker and cement my title as the greatest assassin of all time!'_

When the examinations were through, the two competitors straightened themselves up and entered the ring.

Sure-heartedly, the pair swaggered onto the platform and settled into a standoff at the center of the floor. Rat's laugh drawled heavily on Yeung's nerves.

"What is your deal?" asked a very annoyed Yeung.

Smiling in an ever-so-vile manner, the Buddhist monk-looking man replied snidely, "We've been watching you for a long time boy."

"I don't understand," said Yeung puzzled.

"You don't have to," the older male quipped, "All you need to know is that the Yakuza wants you bumped off and I'm just the man to do it!"

Taken back by this revelation, Yeung stepped away from his competitor. "All this over dead ninjas!"

A wry smile found it's way onto the sinister hit man's face. "Oh…, don't get me wrong! I have my own reasons for wanting to kill you. With your death, I will finally usurp Toa Pai-Pai as the world's greatest assassin!"

"_The two fighters may begin!"_

"You really shouldn't count your chickens before they're hatched," Yeung chided warningly.

"Oh, don't worry!" Rat arrogantly replied. "They're hatched! Here! Let me end this quick!"

Without another word, the Yakuza killer reached out and rested his palm on Yeung's left shoulder. Much to Yeung's immediate surprise, nothing happened.

"_My word…," _began Mr. Firecracker adjusting his glasses, "_Contestant Rat has just placed his hand on Contestant Yeung's shoulder! What could this mean?!"_

"This….is it!?" asked Yeung disbelievingly, "This is what you call "ending it quick!?"" Yeung simply stood there and laughed in his adversary's face. "Dude! Tell whoever hired you that they better get their money back!"

Yeung's smile soon became a visage of terror as viola and behold, Rat's limp palm melted through his left shoulder like some gaseous specter gliding through a wall. Bones and sinew alike parted to accommodate the sinister assassin's grizzly technique.

Yeung had little time to bat his opponent away before the whole of his shoulder was turned into a meaty paste. Blood poured like a geyser from the homunculus-esque wound. Left arm dangling by a flap of hide, Yeung tried vainly to slow the blood loss.

"_O-oh no!!" _stammered announcer Akira, "_Contestant Yeung's shoulder is ruined! We may have to stop the fight!"_

Outside the ring, Toa Pai-Pai was pitching a royal, duck fit….

"Damned that dirty Rat!" cursed the cyborg assassin, "He's as insolent as ever!"

"You know that man?" asked Master Roshi.

"Hmm..," nodded Toa. "In my last few years working for the Yakuza, that little crap sack was always trying to up me! He saw me as little more than a glass ceiling for him to surpass! If only I had warned Yeung!"

"You had the whole semifinals to warn him!" snapped Fein.

"You are his master!" added the old Kamesinnin. You had to have looked at the tournament contestant directory too."

"Err…uhh, to be completely honest," began Toa embarrassed, "I only looked at it _once_…. Eight months ago."

"Ohhhh….nooo…" quivered Fein.

Back in the ring, Yeung was left with a daunting injury. Blood and lymph stained his Crane Dojo uniform as it pooled on the concrete platform. His opponent Rat looked on as if he were a cobra waiting for it's venom to take effect.

"Hmm…, so how did you like my Tazanchi Water-breaking Palm? Now all I have to do is wait for the blood loss to take effect and then it's show time."

"_Hsss_…, _That's _a new one on me," Yeung remarked, flakes of blood slurring his speech. "I-I have a secret technique too."

At this, Rat could only raise an eyebrow. "Ohh!? Are you sure that you can use it with only one arm? I was hoping that you would withdraw so I could add my tournament winnings to those I'd receive for killing you."

"Well, sorry to disappoint," said the boy. "Here is my technique."

Without another word, Yeung pointed his right index finger at his opponent. A golden ember began to radiate from his right arm as latent power coalesced onto a single point. When the attack finally reached critical mass, the boy let fly with the Crane Dojo's signature move…

"DODONPA!!!"

As if out of nowhere, Rat the Iron Bullet found himself turned a summer set by the power of a fully charged Dodonpa wave. The beam tore through it's target with such force that the Yakuza hit man was bowled over. Upon hitting the tiling, Rat bounced with a wet "_Squirlch_!"

Dazed and confused, Rat gripped fitfully at his own, now ruined shoulder.

"_What the?!" _exclaimed announcer Mr. Firecracker_. "Ladies and gentlemen! I have no idea what Contestant Yeung just did!"_

"_I do!" _blared announcer Mr. Akira_, "Everyone! Contestant Yeung has just deployed the Crane Dojo's signature technique: the dreaded Dodonpa!"_

"An eye for and eye…," began Yeung.

Coming back to the here and now, Rat could only finish, "And a tooth for a tooth!"

Smiling widely, Rat brought himself back up to par with his opponent. "This wouldn't be fun if it were _too_ easy! I'd almost feel guilty accepting the Mob's money if you had just keeled over on the spot! I see now that I will have to fight you seriously!"

"Wait! Hold that thought!" Yeung signaled the announcers for a break in the action.

"_Everyone!" _started Mr. Akira, _"The representative from the Crane Dojo has just called for a time out!"_

Yeung then turned his attention to Tien. "Hey Tien! Toss me two sensu!"

Tien smirked at his charge. "I get it!"

The triclops flung a pair of the magical healing herbs into the central ring. Yeung promptly downed one. Within moments, that same old uplifting sensation spread from his gut all the way to the tips of his toes. To top it all off, his bloody, pasted shoulder patched itself together.

"_Everybody! I can't believe what I'm seeing! Contestant Yeung's wounds just closed up as if they never were!"_

This was not lost on his opposition, who started to back away. It was then that Yeung tossed the remaining sensu to him.

"Huh?!" Rat eyed the suspicious little vegetable cautiously.

"Eat it," Yeung commanded. "You'll get the idea!"

Hesitantly, the killer slipped the rock-hard bean into his mouth and swallowed. It wasn't long before what had happened with Yeung had been repeated with Rat.

Shocked beyond all reason, Rat the Iron Bullet found himself double-checking his own shoulder wound as if what had occurred really were a dream. Rat then began to follow a train of thought…

"I see…," the Imposter monk said smiling devilishly, "So this is your secret?!"

"Say what?" Upon seeing his opponent's demeanor change yet again, Yeung began to worry.

"Your full of surprises aren't you?! I now know why it was that you were able to badger the Yakuza in Gingertown so well."

"Uhhh…" Sweat dropping, Yeung arched an eyebrow at his opposition.

"You couldn't possibly have lasted as long against the Mob without those beans!"

"Believe what you want to," said Yeung.

Rat laughed heartily at his charge. "OH, I will!" shouted the hit man. "In fact, I'm willing to bet that you're nothing without those beans!"

"Come and find out for yourself!"

That one goading was all it took to send assassin Rat on the warpath. Running towards Yeung, the man hurled himself headfirst at the boy like a missile. Straightening his body to the tightest rigidity possible, the assassin attempted to smash into Yeung like a battering ram.

Yeung jerked out of the way as Rat's bald cap grazed his torso at near supersonic speed. His opponent continued on his present trajectory until skidding to a stop at the furthest corner of the ring. The tiled floor behind the hit man smoked as a result of carpet burn from his taxiing.

As a result of friction from the near miss, the section of Yeung's torso that got sideswiped spontaneously burst into flames. The young fighter soon found himself patting out his own roasting flesh.

"_What vileness!?" _screeched announcer Jody Firecracker. _"We're sure that the fighters were thoroughly checked for weapons! How can they be doing what they're doing?! It boggles the mind!"_

Getting up, Rat the Iron Bullet turned to admire his handy-work. "I feel for you! Getting sideswiped by my Tezanchi Mongul Cannon Assault is like having a phosphorous grenade go off in your hand! It would have been less painful had you just let me kill you right then and there!"

Paying little heed to his opponent's taunts, Yeung continued to fight the spreading of the flames, lest they consume his whole body.

"HAHAHAHA!" the killer chortled, "It matters not what you do! You're going to slowly burn to death!"

Fear of death broiling over, Yeung's body found itself unhinged from the mind. Instinct became the only fallback. His body took on a demonic red ember as the muscles in his torso began to shift violently around his now cooking wound. Finally, the entire affected area was rejected in one ghastly expulsion, courtesy of the 'floodrush' technique.

There were screams in the stands at the gruesome sight that beheld them. In front of Yeung's body, a blackish, gooey meat-wade lay on the ring floor, a remnant of the rejected, seared flesh. His body racked in agony, Yeung's shoulders stooped. Embedded in his side was a deep sinewy hole.

Looking up at his opponent, Yeung sneered viciously. Taking a moment to spit a bit of blood from between his teeth, the boy again stood tall. "You _are _deadly…"

Hands on his hips, the assassin Rat smiled with utmost pride. "And you _are _annoying. It's like having to squash the same cockroach over and over! _Really_! Why won't you just die already?"

"You realize you stand no chance of winning," said Yeung.

"Strength isn't everything," the bald killer remarked. "I don't need to be as strong. I paid close attention to your prelim matches. You waste your power, you're clumsy, and you are a terrible tactician!"

"Those are fightin words buddy!"

It was then that Yeung zipped out in front of the mob killer and threw an elbow strike at Rat's temple. Rat for his part did something completely unconventional: He blocked it with his cranium!

Jumping back from his opposition, Yeung gasped in shock as he beheld a gruesome discovery.

"My elbow!" Viola and behold, sure enough, the block was a Trojan horse strike that neutralized half of Yeung's attack while damaging his arm.

Rubbing his bald noggin, Rat tossed a shit-eating grin Yeung's way. "Humph! My head is conditioned to withstand an explosion! Face it boy! You're a hammer and I'm anything but a nail!"

Unbeknownst to everyone, Yeung's last attack did some damage.

'_This can't go on.'_ thought Rat. '_That last shot rattled me pretty good! What is this kid?! There's no way __I can go head to head with him! I just hope I can land a killing blow soon.__'_

Outside the ring, Toa Pai-Pai and Master Roshi continued to rabble over the ongoing exchange between Yeung and Rat.

"That Rat..," mussed the old Turtle Hermit, "His entire art is oriented towards killing! His very touch is the essence of bodily destruction…"

Swallowing hard, Mercenary Toa added gruffly, "And what's more! He is able to do this with a style that doesn't even require ki mastery!"

"Yeung is many times more powerful than that Rat, and yet he's still being neutralized!" said Tien.

Just then, a gaggle of reporters and journalists approached the three. Toa Pai-Pai soon found more than a few microphones shoved in his prosthetic face.

"Um…I take it that you are the Mercenary Toa Pai-Pai?" asked one female journalist. "That is, the same one who now presides as Sefu over the Crane Dojo?"

"Uh…I am."

"Then that makes you the one that trained Rolo Yeung?" asked yet another.

"Proudly!"

"Can we have your commentary on the present match?"

Back in the ring, Yeung and Rat found themselves frozen in place by fear of one another's fist. It had only been ten minutes since the beginning of the first quarterfinals match and already blood and lymph painted the concrete floor. Yeung's fist was an unstoppable force, and Rat's fighting form was like that of a fishermen's net. Neither one could move for fear of total destruction.

In the stands, the spectators became restless and began to pelt the field with debris.

It wasn't long before the two combatants entered into another grizzly exchange. Yeung with the Crane Dojo's hard style variation, left Rat reeling back and forth like a human pinball in a tornado, and Rat with his soft style Tazanchi River Fist turned Yeung's body into a fleshy shooting range. Blood geysers opened up all over Yeung's stocky body as Rat's wayward shots found their mark. Likewise, Rat found his bones, cartilage, and sinew cracked, crushed, stabbed, and gauged as Yeung's finger jabs hit home.

It was not that Yeung was unable to see the blows coming. It was simply that he could not completely block those that did hit. Deep cavernous gashes gave his upper body the appearance of some used, autopsy cadaver.

Rat the Iron Bullet, for his credit was not doing any better. Nerve strikes from Yeung left the older man's right leg sealed with crippling paralysis and his acupressure points were puffed up with so much blood and lymph that he could hardly even move. All of his teeth were knocked out, his cheeks were ripped up so much that one could see his now toothless gums, and his left eardrum had ruptured, throwing his balance off.

Again, the two combatants broke off.

"T-this has t-to be the hardest fortune I've ever made…" remarked the bald killer. "Mercenary Toa's training has indeed made you powerful!"

"D-don't sweat it old man!" said Yeung, "I was certain that Hard Copper was to be my only real competition! To think that a monster like you exists!"

"I'm curious as to why you've refrained from once again using that beam attack on me!"

"I'm saving my real power for my battle with Hard Copper," explained the boy.

"Do not dare take me so lightly?!" exclaimed Rat indignantly. "For I have been saving something as well!"

Without another word, Rat's neck musculature started to expand in width and size. Sternocledomastoid stretched and bones popped to accommodate this bizarre transformation. When it was all over, the Yakuza killer looked as if his neck had nearly tripled in length.

Stumbling back, one of the co-announcers struggled to describe what had just taken place. _"People! I have no idea what to make of this aberration! Contestant Rat's neck dimensions have increased significantly! What impact will this have on the fight?!"_

"Behold my secret form!" Rat declared. "Tazanchi Three-Way Strike!"

"Ah Gross!" screeched Yeung in disgust.

Outside the ring, the other contestants found themselves picking up their jaws. Such was the state of shock and awe Rat's technique elicited. Mr. Satan in particular couldn't believe what he was seeing. The current World Champion staggered away from the ring just a tad faster than the other participants.

"How is it even possible?!" asked Puntar.

"Uhh…freaky!" Spopovitch added.

Back in the ring, the Yakuza killer inched towards Yeung. Blood oozed from battered flesh surrounding the general area of muscle and bone metamorphosis, puddling the tiled platform crimson. Even Yeung, for all his grit, found it hard to stand his ground in the face of this new challenge.

'_If I run now, there's no point in my even came here.' _Yeung struggled inwardly with himself. In the shadow of any adversity, finding the courage to stand is often a battle in itself.

Back outside the ring…

"Seeing that change in Rat has taken a toll on Yeung's resolve," said Tien. "His spine is beginning to falter!"

"Even a cornered mouse will fight a cat!" Roshi commented.

"Except in this case, that cat happens to be a lion!" Toa corrected.

"Still, I don't see why Yeung is worried," said Fein. "There's been little change in his opponent's battle power."

The Turtle Hermit shot his charge a dirty look. "It's not always a matter of battle power. This changes the whole dimension of the fight!"

It was then that Yeung threw himself yet again into his daunting opponent. The exchange carried on for a number of seconds much like the last two. This time however, Rat swung his now elongated neck and clubbed Yeung right on the noggin.

The youth then found himself dredged straight through the concrete floor. Blood streamed from his facial orifices, telling of a massive internal contusion. Tears of crimson dripped from his eye sockets onto the broken tiling.

At this, the anti-Yeung, Satan fans erupted into spontaneous cheers. Shouts of "Kill that little bastard!" and "Now's your chance Rat!" echoed in the stands. It got so bad in fact, that announcer Mr. Akira couldn't take it anymore.

"_Errr….Come on people!" _shouted the senior announcer, "_For crying out loud! Act like ya'll have some decency!"_

"Well boy, it looks like this is it!" drawled the older assassin. "Our battle of the killers is drawing to a close. I prefer to refrain from using this form because it shortens my lifespan. Still, it's potential is evident!"

Yeung for his part could do nothing but lay there convulsing. Lymphatic fluid leaked from his ears and his vision on his left side was going. His right eye gazed up at the Yakuza killer. '_That guy sure likes to talk! Oh God! Doesn't he ever shut up!'_

"It's lucky for me that you slipped up when you did boy," mussed Rat. "It will take months of physical rehab to get my neck back to normal, but it's worth it if this is what it takes to finish this!"

Leaning over the downed youth, the Yakuza hit man drew back his head and delivered another ball-and-chain headbutt for good measure. The hit man turned to shoot a dirty look at Mercenary Toa, Master Roshi, and the other contestants congregated outside the ring. With a truly chilling hiss, the bald killer addressed them all.

"Whenever you like, feel free to jump in and save him!" Mr. Satan, Puntar, and some of the other finalists inched back in sheer terror. It was then that announcer Mr. Akira ran into the ring and began yelling frantically.

"Please, STOP!!!" screamed the blond man. "KILLING YOUR OPPONENT IS FORBIDDEN!! QUICK JODY, HELP!!"

Mr. Satan's longtime announcer sidekick Jody Firecracker rushed into the ring accompanied by three stocky tournament hands. The whole lot of them were stopped in their tracks by but a single glare from Yeung's assailant.

Fein made a move to save his former fellow student only to be stopped by a strong hand. Turning, the older black teen found that it was Tien that detained him.

"LET GO OF ME MAN!!" Fein hollered, struggling frantically, "YEUNG NEEDS HELP!!!"

"No, wait! Look!" the triclops commanded.

From the ring floor, Yeung shot to his feet. Grotesque veins popped and an all-too-familiar ethereal red glow washed over his body as his nascent battle power came to the surface. His eyes gleamed with a dim, white ether that sent jets of rectangular parallelism light waves too and far.

Stepping back, the Yakuza assassin nearly shit himself.

"WHY WON'T YOU JUST DIE!!!" The older man made a last ditch go for the youth. Reaching out for Yeung, Rat attempted to take the boy with one final Water-Breaking Palm. However, just before the strike landed, latent instinct kicked in. The shorter Yeung reached out and snared the man's wrists in a vice-like iron grip. Bones cracked and flesh buckled as the boy grinded his larger opponent's forearms to applesauce.

"YOU'RE A MONSTER!!!" screeched the bald killer. He was soon cut off by a near-lethal toe kick that severed his abdominal medial line. The subsequent strike collided with such devastating force that Yeung's toenails went right through his shoe and hacked into Rat's gut like an ax.

Needless to say, Yeung was not finished. In his berserker state, the mad boy struck the bridge of Rat's already crushed nose with a _koekowgan_(Fist of the Tiger's Mouth) frontal strike. Shaken, Rat stumbled around in a disoriented state, his elongated neck form only exacerbating his balance issue.

What Yeung did next was barbaric on a visceral level. Winding back, Yeung set his opponent up for a skull-shattering _robegishi_ or 'multiway twist.' Bringing his thumb, middle, and forefinger together, the boy concentrated all his power on a fine point in his adversary's skull where the bones of the cranium come together.

A resounding wet 'crick' could be heard as the bones of Rat's skull came apart at the seams. Blood flowed from his eyes like crimson tears reminiscent some ghastly crucifixion scene.

"NO YEUNG!! STOP!!" screamed Toa.

Not hearing his teacher's plea, the young warrior drew back and delivered a powerful, hard right. The ensuing strike broke what was left of Rat's skull. The connective tissue under the face finally gave out and the Yakuza killer's mug flopped limply as he was sent flying from the ring.

"_Match over!" _screeched announcer Akira.

Yeung fell to the floor from exhaustion. As he was falling, one of the three officials that had entered the ring with Mr. Firecracker, caught him.

Tien followed closely by Toa, Roshi, and Fein, rushed into the ring to help his fallen friend. Upon reaching Yeung, he pushed the tournament official aside and administered him one of only three remaining sensu. Out on the grass however, there was a bit of a wrinkle.

"_Uh…Folks, we may have a problem," _continued the announcer. Mr. Akira stood over Rat's face with a small mirror to check for breathing. There was none.

"No!" whined Kato, "Senior Yeung's gonna be disqualified!"

"No shit!" Xin remarked.

"Yeung needs our support more than anyone right now," said Gen si. "Let's cheer our Senior on!"

"Yeah!" nodded Den Sum. "We're rootin for ya Yeung!"

Down in the field, the effects of the sensu had taken hold and Yeung was back on his feet. His opponent on the other hand, was being carted off in a body bag.

"You really did it flying off the handle like that!" chided Tien. Yeung jumped to his feet, his body fully recovered. Seeing this, Jody Firecracker and the three other tournament workers in the ring backed away spooked.

"What about my match?" asked Yeung. "What happened?"

"Your opponent is dead!" snapped Tien. "What do you think happened?!"

"Huh?!"

"You didn't know?!" asked Tien disbelievingly.

"I don't remember doing it," replied the boy.

"_He must have done it subconsciously,"_ thought Tien. "At any rate, you won the fight. However, you lost the match."

"WHAT!?" Shocked, Yeung sprinted over to where the two announcers and several tournament officials were clustered together.

"What the hell's goin on man?" demanded the youth. As if to answer his question, the eldest of the officials stepped forward.

"Calm down," ordered the man. "We're trying to decide whether or not you can remain on the roster. These are peculiar circumstances."

"Hmmm," began Mr. Akira, "Though you technically killed your opponent, Rat did specifically say during the fight that he was going to do the same to you."

"We will have to commiserate a little longer on what steps we can take to penalize your misconduct," explained still another. "It may have been self defense but the issue is hazy."

"Due to the circumstances however, should you win the tournament or any rounds beyond this one we will be forced to hold your winnings for a probationary period until the matter is resolved in committee."

"Soooo….you'll allow me to finish?" Yeung asked somewhat pleadingly.

"For the time being," said Mr. Akira. "Regardless, be forewarned that if this should happen again, you will likely be disqualified."

"But what if someone else wants to kill me?" asked Yeung annoyed.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Mr. Firecracker said assuredly. "The competent security staff and referees will be there if it comes to that again."

"Why do I not find that comforting?" the youth mumbled.

"Uh…, Mr. Akira, Mr. Firecracker."

The two co announcers turned to Mr. Fei Hong, the presiding president of the Martial Arts Society.

"I believe we have dilly-dallied enough," said the old executive.

"Oh uh, of course!" exclaimed Mr. Akira. "_Ladies and Gents! Sorry for the delay. We shall now start the next match of the quarterfinals!"_

As if on q, the spectators turned the stands into something just short of a mosh-pit.

"_Right Akira!"_ chimed announcer Firecracker. _"As incredible as the last fight was, you are all sure to love what we have in store for this round! Would Mr. Snoozenheimer and 'The Dragon' please present themselves for the frisking?"_

A fat drunkard stumbled onto the field in a stupor. His face looked a sickly shade of green and his beer belly strained against a barely visible male girdle. Collapsing to his knees, the man wretched up a putrid puddle of smelly junk that could just as easily turned anyone else who happened to be in the general area green. Cursing, the wasted tub of lard muttered something unintelligible in German.

Coming forward, the tournament official tasked with checking the blubbery German found himself stopped cold. The smell surrounding Snoozenheimer was just as

His opponent on the other hand looked every bit like the trained athletes one came to expect at the competition. 'The Dragon' as he is called was a young Asian male of Tibetan decent who had recently risen to the rank of master.

"_As you all know, 'The Dragon' was a strong fighter at last year's competition. Since then, this brash warrior has won numerous tournaments, carving a place for himself as a truly local favorite."_

"_That's right Jody!" _blared announcer Akira, _"His opponent on the other hand is a first timer who is renowned for…get this….bar fights! Never in the history of fighting has one man been so stoned when entering a bar knuckle brawl! Let's just hope that his tipsy stumbling doesn't affect his ability to fight!"_

"I don't know if you understand Chinese but…I didn't come here to lose!" quipped Dragon.


	18. Scorched Earth

Chapter 18: Fire and Lightning

Both 'The Dragon' and Snoozenheimer faced one another just outside the ring. The tournament official charged with checking for weapons was relieved to be away from the smelly Bavarian's beer breath. The giant fat man looked down at his opponent with something between amusement and distain. As if to taunt the shorter master, the German cocked his bloated pudgy lips into an infuriating smirk.

"For your information you pathetic, little yellow-skinned fool, I can understand your language!" drawled the rotund yodeler, his East European accent accentuating his sarcasm. "_Now_ I want you to understand! If you don't turn around and walk away, I'm going to turn you into instant flambé!"

"As I said before, I didn't come here to lose…."

"_Will 'The Dragon' and Snoozenheimer please enter the ring?"_

The two men broke their brief standoff and stepped onto the platform. The tension was so thick one could harvest it with a hay bailer. Neither contestant knew much about the other except for what they had seen during the prelims.

"_Now it's on to the second match of the quarter finals!" blared Mr. Firecracker. "No one could have predicted this unlikely match-up! It's Master vs slob in a punch-drunk slobber knocker!"_

Mr. Akira nodded towards his colleague with a follow-up_. "That's right Jody, though I wouldn't write off Snoozenheimer so easily. The man proved during the preliminaries that his physical strength and resistance to pain more than made him a match for his smaller and significantly more spry opponents!"_

Outside the ring, Yeung sat with Mercenary Toa and the others.

"Whoever comes out of this fight will wind up facing you in the next ranking so I think it's safe to assume that it's gonna be a cakewalk," said Fein matter-a-factly.

"Hmm…, that's what you said about the last couple of guys I fought," quipped Yeung.

"And your point is?!" replied Fein irritably.

"His point is what Tien's point was earlier!" Master Roshi explained. "If I had known that the 'mind's eye' would become your crutch, I would of withheld that knowledge until you had developed more."

"Nonetheless, I don't really see either of _these_ contestants making it past the next round," said Tien.

Back in the ring, Snoozenheimer and 'The Dragon' fell into another standoff….

"_Fighters!" _blared Mr. Akira_, "You may begin!"_

"Hmph! I guess I'll lead off!" offered the bulbous yodeler. Reaching up, the large man yanked his hat from atop his head and tossed it aside. He then approached his opponent with a look that betrayed distaste.

'The Dragon' for his part, assumed a defensive stance. He saw no need for going at his opponent full force.

"BLOOD AND SOIL MOTHERFUCKER!!!!" bellowed the massive Bavarian breaking into a forward lunge. Closing in on Dragon, he raised his right hand for a nasty chop.

As his opponent was rushing toward him, 'The Dragon' stepped to the side and let the wide swing sail past him. Just as the momentum of Snoozenheimer's attack dissipated, he grabbed the German's outstretched arm and hoisted himself upon the big man's shoulders. Wrapping his legs firmly around the Bavarian's neck, the Asian fighter let into the back of Snoozenheimer's head with a punishing series of cross-strikes.

Snoozenheimer was bearing the assault moderately well. Reaching up, he grabbed Dragon by the scruff of the neck and physically wrenched the smaller man off him. While this was going on, Dragon took hold of the fat Bavarian's suspenders and ripped his top off.

With his suspenders torn, Snoozenheimer's pants fell off in the middle of the ring, exposing a steel rod-enforced girdle for all to see. In the stands, the spectators broke into spontaneous fits of laughter as the ritually humiliated German struggled to preserve what little dignity he still had.

"That's a good look for you," remarked Dragon.

"HOW DARE YOU!?!" screamed the large man. "NO MORE GAMES! I VOW REVENGE!!"

Pulling his pudgy lips back, the German revealed a pair of rough teeth fillings. Biting down, a spark was brought forth. This spark in turn ignited a brilliant bluish-white flame. Alarmed but not frightened, 'The Dragon' backed away.

"_Oh Lordy! Snoozenheimer's mouth has burst into a blaze!" _said Mr. Firecracker. _"One can only wonder how this will affect the fight!"_

"How indeed…"mussed Master Roshi.

"Master?" prodded Fein turning to his charge.

"It's his opponent, Dragon!" revealed the aged hermit, "He doesn't seem to be one bit dismayed by this turn of events."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know, but we'll find out soon enough," said Roshi.

Back in the ring, 'The Dragon' stood fast. He cocked a cheeky smile his opponent's way.

"What the hell are you grinning at?!" demanded Snoozenheimer.

"They don't call me 'The Dragon' for nothing," answered the Asian master. Drawing in a deep breath, the little man's rib cage expanded grotesquely. Just below the diaphragm, an eerie orange glow coalesced in his gut. Finally, when his body couldn't hold any more, the flood gates opened and a gush of orange flame flowed out onto the arena. Gradually, this flare was directed at its' creator's target.

Snoozenheimer had little time to duck and roll as a flamethrower jet whizzed past him. Rolling to his feet, the rotund German let fly with his own return fire. A blue flare rushed towards Dragon with astonishing speed. 'The Dragon' avoided this attack with considerably less trouble than his opposition. Jumping high into the air, he let Snoozenheimer's attack pass harmlessly underneath him.

'_Hmm…,'_ thought the spry warrior, '_Fatass has got some good lung capacity. To fire a spurt of flame that far…Bravo!'_

"Hmph! Get a load of this!" Curling into a ball, the young Kung-Fu master began to spew flames from his mouth as if they were water coming from a fire hose. The force behind these flames gave the smaller man enough thrust to lunch himself high into the air.

"_Unbelieveable!"_ shouted Mr. Akira. The seasoned announcer took a moment to clean his sunglasses before continuing, "_I don't know what to make of this ladies and gents! Dragon has just used his own fire techniques to propel himself into the sky like a rocket! Yes! A Rocket!!" _

Dumbfounded, Snoozenheimer stood in the center of the ring. Save for his pants, all clothing had been burned off by his own fire-breathing. In the sky, his opponent continued to gain speed before finally doing a u-turn in mid flight. It was then that it dawned on the rotund German.

"HOLY SHIT!! He's headed right for me!!!!" The large Bavarian took to his heels as quickly as his chunky legs would carry him. Just as 'The Dragon' were about to score a come from behind knockdown, Snoozenheimer hit the deck screaming!

'_Damned! I missed!! Lucky bastard!' _cursed Dragon mentally. The adept fire-breather landed just short of the ring's edge.

A little dizzy, the younger warrior stumbled back towards the center of the ring. His opponent, Snoozenheimer, continued to lay face-down on the tiling with his hands covering the back of his head.

"Now this is how I like seeing all my opponents," Dragon remarked, "Cowering at my feet!"

"You…..," quivered the bloated German, his voice dripping with venom. "This humiliation will not stand!!"

"Oh, it will stand," asserted 'The Dragon,' "It will stand because you can't hit me!"

"I…., 'hiss' will….DESTROY YOU!!!" Drawing in breath for one last strike, Snoozenheimer's chest cavity began to glow like the heart of the sun. A forlorn wind whipped up at his feet as if to signify that this was his final strike.

"Let's see whose fire-breath is stronger!" 'The Dragon' in turn drew breath in preparation for his own counterstrike. When both combatants reached their respectable limits, the two let fly with a powerful stream of flame, one blue, the other a deep orange. The two flames came together like a pair of colliding weather fronts. The resulting heat was so intense that the two combatants had to back away from the center of the ring. Chemical reactions at the epicenter of the merger sent lightning bolts to and fro across the ring platform.

"_Holy Shit!" _hollered Mr. Firecracker_. "Folks! The flames are so extreme that I can't even see the match! Are our contestants fighting or burning to death?! We may have to call the fire department…"_

Under the cover of this firestorm, 'The Dragon' tried his best to slip up on his fat opponent. Not that it mattered, really. His opponent may as well have had a blind spot the size of a parish.

"W-where are you?!" Paranoid, the massive bar-fighter swung hap hazardously, trying to hit anything within reach. Unbeknownst to Snoozenheimer, 'The Dragon' had gotten around him, hiding in plain sight.

"Look out behind you!" As Snoozenheimer turned to face his adversary, the smaller Dragon thrust his thumb into the larger man's hyoid bone, performing a lethal throat lock.

The smaller, Asian warrior chuckled grotesquely at his handy work. "My own sefu would disapprove of these actions! However, those who insult my style through imitation deserve to die! Rest in hell!!"

With his throat closed off, Snoozenheimer's fiery gut no longer had a release valve. The massive German clawed fitfully at his neck. His abdominal cavity continued to expand until his rib cage and diaphragm buckled. Eventually, his gastrointestinal tract gave way, culminating in a fiery explosion that rained human body parts all over the surrounding field.

Quickly, under cover of smoke and flame, the smaller warrior darted back to his side of the ring. When the smokescreen cleared, only he was standing, his cloths and hair burned away by the intense fire.

"_Wh-where is Snoozenheimer?!" _asked Mr. Akira dumbfoundedly. In the center of the ring, lay a black, charred smear that sizzled and smoked. It didn't take long for it to dawn on everyone.

"_Oh my Lord!!"_ screamed one of the two announcers, the other at a loss for words, _"Everyone, please stay calm! One of our contestants is missing!!"_

'The Dragon' smiled inwardly at his recent doing. Leaving the ring, the smaller man turned to one of the arena workers.

"Hey," said Dragon, "I leave you to clean up the mess!"

The worker in question shuffled onto the platform. All around, the floor was blackened with soot and ash. Many of the surface tiles were still hot to the touch. The pungent odor of human flesh was heavy in the air. By this time, Mr. Akira and Mr. Firecracker had joined him in the middle of the ring.

"Where is contestant Snoozenheimer?" asked Mr. Satan's longtime cohort.

With a barely audible 'gulp' his colleague answered, "I-I t-think we're s-s-standing on him!!" Knowing that what they stood on were in fact barbecued bits of Snoozenheimer's innards sent the three MAS(Martial Arts Society) employees scrambling out of the ring in a heated panic.

"_Forget the stretcher! Grab a body bag!!" _shrieked Mr. Firecracker.

His colleague on the other hand maintained a cooler head. _"Ladies and Gents! For anyone who is faint of heart, leave now!!"_

"No one else may have seen what happened, but I got a good look at what went down in there!" said Tien.

"As did I." Mercenary Toa came up beside his former student.

"What that young man did was cold-blooded murder!" growled Master Roshi.

"I didn't see anything," mouthed Yeung.

"It's nothing you boys would want to see!" Roshi remarked.

Taking a moment to calm his nerves, Mr. Firecracker addressed the audience which for the most part was disturbingly unnerved by the recent spectacle. _"Umm…Everyone! For those who can stomach today's tragic events, I can only say that you are some twisted individuals…" _

Mr. Satan's longtime friend staggered back a bit before landing on his rump. _"As for me…, I think I need to catch my breath! Mr. Akira, this next bout is all yours."_

"_Uhhh…, thanks I guess." _said Akira offhandedly. "_Ladies and gentlemen. If anyone is offended by the violence that has been brought to the ring this year, we apologize. This is the first time in this tournament's history in which 2 contestants have died within the span of two concurring matches. Again, we at the Martial Arts Society are deeply appalled. The rest of the fights will be put on hiatus until the central ring is sanitary enough for use."_

Outside of the ring the remaining contestants shuffled into the mess hall. Some of the remaining uninjured participants from the prelims were covered in bits and pieces of contestant Snoozenheimer. It's safe to say they wanted to shower.

"Fein!"

The older teen turned to his teacher. "Yes, Master Roshi!"

"I want to tell you that your next match will be your first real fight at this tournament! You were only lucky that you got stuck with weaker opponents in the prelims."

"Oh Master! Stop it!" said Fein in mock plea, "I can't feel anything special from big, tall, and rocky!"

"You had better heed my warnings," Roshi cautioned, "I've heard that name 'Megaton' somewhere before! This battle isn't going to be a cakewalk by any means!"

"Hah!" jested the young Fein, "The day some piece of gravel can grind me will be the day Krillain grows an inch!"

"Sigh…., There's just no teaching that which can't be taught," muttered the old turtle hermit.

In the mess hall many of the other contestants from the prelims settled at the tables. With their moment in the spotlight over, the scores of uninjured contestants resided themselves to taking advantage of the few remaining benefits being a 'loser' at the Nationals provided. Some ate while others colluded into groups to discuss next years' competition.

In the distant corner of the room, a gaggle of journalists and paparazzi banded around Mr. Satan and his close student Piroski.

"Mr. Satan! What comments do you have for your opposition?" asked one. "Hard Copper's manager, Mr. Siks, has promised that your battle with the local champion will be your last! What do you say to that?"

"Piroski! Any insight regarding your future career?" prodded another. "Megaton seems to be the real deal! In light of your recent defeat at the hands of this basalt freak, what tips can you give to contestant Fein ?"

"What do you have to say about the controversy surrounding Yeung's excessive force during his fight with Rat?"

Shrugging at the Satan crew's usual antics, Yeung, Mercenary Toa, Master Roshi, Tien, and Fein found a table off away from the others. Collectively, with the exception of probably Fein, they hoped the press would leave them be. Sadly, this was not to be the case.

Yeung felt a light 'tap' on his shoulder and turned around to have the microphones of three journalists jabbed in his face. Startled, the boy fell onto his rump.

"Contestant Yeung! What prompted you to kill your opponent in your last match?"

"How can your teacher attest for your vast increase in size in recent months?" asked the second. "Are the allegations of you cheating on your urinary drug test before this tournament true?"

"You do realize that your master Mercenary Toa is still wanted by Interpol on charges of extortion, conspiracy to commit fraud, murder, collusion, and working with terrorists?" asserted still a third. "Considering your past behavior, you might also be tried as an adult."

"YOU GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!!!" Mercenary Toa bellowed. Like dust bunnies in the wind, the pack of paparazzi scattered.

"They are right you know," said Roshi. "You might want a fresh start in life but convincing the state of that will be a battle in itself."

"Hmm…," nodded Toa. The cyborg assassin withdrew to his meal, fried eggs.

"They'll either accept him or they won't!" mouthed Yeung. "What choice do they have? It's not like they can arrest him!"

"Four out of five men at this table have some sort of criminal record," spoke Fein.

"What's really sad about that is that some martial arts fans idolize you guys!" Roshi stated. The old master thumbed away at his favorite, dirty magazine.

"Speak for yourself!" Toa snapped.

"_Will all contestants please return to the arena?"_

"Well, I guess it's time to rock n' roll!" jibbed Fein.

Stepping onto the platform, the great beast that is Megaton nearly capsizes the concrete steps with his colossal weight and frame. One of it's arms was but a mass of iron ore decorated by crystalline spikes. The other was like that of most humanoid specie that inhabited the world, only larger.

"_A walking miracle of nature, Megaton possesses a body of solid basal, and if the prelims were any indicator, he has yet to display a fraction of his true strength!"_

Once in the ring, the rocky behemoth lifted his arms, each as big around as a grown man's torso, high into the sky and roared with a thunderous sound reminiscent of an elephant's bellow.

"_And his opponent…" _Mr. Akira gestured to the lanky Fein who was performing a brief stretch before entering the ring. _"Standing at 6 foot 7 inches, a newcomer at this years' National Budokai! Please welcome Fein Okonkwo!"_

"_For those of you who don't know, Fein was trained by none other than the 'God of Martial Arts' himself, Master Roshi. That being said, those who are familiar with the Turtle style can expect a good fight!" _

In the ring, Megaton regarded his smaller opponent with some indifference. His voice was like sand blowing through a rocky crevice. "I ssssaw your power in the preliminariessss! Ssstrong you are, for a human! But that is all it is…Concsseivable ssstrength! When the bell gongss, I'll crusssh you!"

"Well…, I guess I had to get paired with a freak sooner or later," the dark-skinned teen mused grimly.

"_The two contestants may begin!"_

From the sound of the gong, Fein sprang forward. Ducking a poorly placed palm strike, the young warrior let into his far larger opponent with a series of punishing hard lefts and rights. The shots were good, each one following through.

In between intervals of body blows Megaton would swing punches, cloths lines, back-hands, and ax handles. Every now and then the monster would add in a stomp just to mix things up. However, none of these strikes were fast enough to hit pay-dirt.

In the stands, the effects of Megaton's stomping were felt by everyone. Small tremors shook the arena accompanied by resounding 'booms' that carried through the ground into the substructure of the facility.

"Ah Damn It! I dropped my hot dog!" screeched Vegeta. Fuming in a rage, the Saiyan prince jumped from his seat and set out for the snack bar.

"Wooooah!!" hollered Krillain, "If this continues, the field is gonna cave in!"

"Fein needs to stop showing off and Kamehamaha that guy into next Tuesday!" Yamucha harped. "Seriously, all this shaking is messing up my I-Pod!"

Back in the ring, Fein continued to dart in and around his opponent's heavy attacks.

"_Contestant Fein is dancing around his opponent like a butterfly!" Announcer Akira commented, "However, contestant Megaton is handling it in stride!"_

"We can do this all day big guy!" jested the young man. Fein ducked just under Megaton's attempt at catching him in a bear hug. From below, the dark-skinned teen rocketed upwards with an uppercut that hobbled his stony opponent.

This however, didn't faze the large beast for long. With a brief shake, the rocky monster was hurling him/itself back into the skrid! Due to the rocky aberration's reach, he was able to force Fein to step in and out. It was during one of these intervals that Megaton made his move.

Using the heavier side of his torso as a counterweight, the monster stomped his toes straight though the ring floor. This done, Megaton then led off with his other foot and used his grounded toehold as a pivot.

This seemed to work out beautifully as Fein yet again rushed in. As the adolescent came forward, Megaton spun all 1500 pounds of his right flank out of Fein's path. Fein continued to blindly run forward, jetting past his target. From behind, Megaton caught the back of the teen's head with a crippling backhand that sent Fein taxiing across the tiles.

Not giving his smaller opposition time to recover, Megaton doubled back on the downed teen. Reaching down, he snared Fein by the dreadlocks and began to fling him around like a rag doll.

"_Contestant Okonkwo is in trouble!"_ bellowed Mr. Akira, "_Could this be a turning point in the fight?" _

Fein screamed as his kinky locks were ripped from his scalp by the centripetal force of being turned into a human ball and chain. With every collision his face and body suffered against the concrete, the damage piled on. Finally in a desperate attempt to get away, Fein reached up and used his fingernails to slash at his scalp. With a barely audible 'snap,' the young turtle student went flying across the ring before face-planting through the floor.

"Youu cannot essscapppe!" Megaton hissed. The titanic rock golem slowly lurched after his quarry. The thundering footfalls of the three ton beast carried into the substructure of the whole coliseum, shattering windows in the distant skybox section.

Digging deep, the African teen pushed himself to a crouching position. Dislodged teeth fell from his mouth and his cheek had a hole puncture where his lower-left cusped had cut through. "Why couldn't Yeung have gotten _all_ the freaks?"

Coming forward, Megaton delivered a powerful uppercut to the body. Fein couldn't comprehend the tectonic forces this one body shot possessed. The strike busted through his guard as if it were non-existent and caught the lanky teen in the midsection. Fein's torso folded like paper around the massive stone fist and blood was drawn like toothpaste from a tube. Still, the shot continued on and jettisoned it's target clear out of the ring.

"_Holy Shit! Megaton has sent contestant Fein into the stratosphere!"_

Fein continued on his trajectory, flying right over town and into the wide blue yonder. "_Not good!" _said the panicked adolescent. Righting himself in midair, the young warrior cupped his hands to his right side. "KA…" Tendrils of whitish-blue light coalesced between his calloused palms. "MEA…" Ultimately, these tendrils imploded on themselves and attained a surface tension like that of water. HAAAMEAA…" Thrusting his hands towards the approaching horizon, Fein had only one thing to say….

"HAAAAA!!!" A title wave of latent energy burst forth from his hands as Fein fired the signature move of the Turtle School, sending him recoiling back towards North City and most importantly, the ring.

Back in the ring, Megaton stood seemingly triumphant. Massive stone fists raised high, the creature worked the crowd. He/it was confident in his victory.

"_Due to a err…ringout, and assuming contestant Fein is still alive this victory will go to Megaton by default!"_

As if on cue, there came a cry from the sky….

"WAIT!!!" Riding in on the legendary Kamehameaha Wave was Fein.

To say the spectators were absolutely flabbergasted was an understatement. Shouts of "Look at that!" and "Incredible!!" erupted from the stands. Some of the older spectators cheered, their memories of past Turtle School fights being cherished memories.

"_Ladies and Gentlemen! Contestant Fein has just used the illustrious Kamehamaeha Wave to avert a ringout!" _

With a booming 'thud,' Fein landed in the ring. His legs were weakened from the draining effects of the Turtle School's signature move. Ribs were broken, cloths were torn, and his lumbar region had a ruptured disk.

"Youu ssshould have ssstayed gone!" hissed Megaton, "Your body isss broken. You can no longer flint about! My unbreakable body sstandsss ssstrong!"

"It does seem hopeless, doesn't it!?" admitted the youth, "However, I have a few cards left to play!"

Because of the shape of his face, one wouldn't have noticed the crooked smirk that Megaton wore. The gargantuan monster spread his arms wide, beckoning his human adversary to attack. "Come!"

"_What is this? Contestant Megaton is taunting his opponent!"_

"No matter how hard I lay into him, I can't hurt him!" muttered the dark-skinned teen. "It's like fighting a tank! The shape of his body just redirects physical strikes, and his uneven dimensions prevent me from knocking him too far!"

"Fein is getting flustered," said Roshi. "He has already forgotten the fundamentals of my teachings."

"Huh?!" Yeung cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean old man?"

"He put too much power into that wave," explained the Turtle Hermit, "Getting bent in half by that shot to the body didn't help matters either."

"It's true," Tien stated. "His style was geared completely towards dancing around his opponent's. Not towards head-on fighting! His strength is only a quarter of what it was."

"Fein!" shouted Yeung. "Throw the fight!"

Fein turned to face his former fellow student from inside the ring. Though it didn't register on his face, Yeung's lack of confidence cut deep into the young man's psyche. Swallowing hard, Fein dug his heels in.

"What are you talking about?!" asked Fein, putting up a façade of strength. "You must be joking!"

"Sssoo, what will it beee child?" chided Megaton.

"I guess I don't have a choice," Fein spouted angrily. "I'll have to use it!" Cupping his hands to his right side, Fein concentrated his remaining ki onto a fine point. "KAAMEAAHAAMEAAHAA!!!"

The wave hurtled towards it's rocky target like a SCUD missile. Megaton for his part hunkered down and brought up a formidable cross guard. The Kamehameaha wave slammed into the stony combatant with the force of a train wreck. Slowly, the wave pushed him back. Concrete flooring buckled under the force. Just as it seemed that Fein was going to get his first down, Megaton dropped to his knees and got under the head of the wave. With a mighty shrug, the great beast batted the ki blast away, sending it right into the stands. The blast catapulted dozens of spectators in every direction sending many running for the exits.

"That'sss sstrike one!" taunted the stone goliath, "I'll give you two more ssstrrikess!"

Fein once again cupped his hands to the side and began to concentrate ki. This time however, he had an idea.

"HAAA!!!" With a hoarse shout, Fein redirected his blast to his 6'oclock. The thrust propelled him at the rocky aberration like a comet. Just as he was about to reach his opponent, he thrust his elbow forward and slammed it into Megaton's granite face. With a muffled 'OOF!,' Megaton was knocked onto his back.

"_Contestant Fein has finally scored a 'down'!" _the announcer stated. _"This marks the second turnover in this fight, but can young Fein keep the ball in his corner? I'll start the count…"_

"_One..."_

Megaton struggled to make the count. Though Fein's elbow to the face found it's mark, the basalt monstrosity escaped unharmed. The main issue was his torso's asymmetrical shape. Combined with his squat legs, this trait made knocking him down next to impossible. However, when Megaton did go down, it was these very traits coupled with his colossal weight that made it just as hard for the large golem to get back up.

"_Two!"_

"NOOO!!!" screeched the rocky anomaly, "I can't lossse like thisss!"

"_Three!_"

In a frothing rage, the creature swung violently with it's massive stone fists, knocking potholes into the ring floor on either side of it. Off to the side, Fein prayed silently for the fight to be over…

"_Four!"_

The great beast cried out to the heavens almost like prehistoric animals must have at the end of the Cretaceous Period.

"_Five!"_

"Please," Fein begged silently, "Just stay down…."

"_Six!"_

"It's gonna be close!" stated the Turtle Hermit.

"_Seven!"_

By this point, Megaton's rage had become so great a blood vessel burst in the basalt cretin's eye. Unable to do anything, he wailed and pitched earthquake inducing fits that carried right into the stands.

"_Eight!"_

"Fein may just squeak by!" Yeung said enthusiastically.

"_Nine!"_

Desperation reaching a high point, the stony megalith tried one last ploy. "If you throw the fight, I'll share the prize money after the tournament!!"

"_Ten!"_

"NOOOOO!!!!" Still, unable to get up, the mighty beast roared it's frustrations skyward.

"_And Fein of the Turtle School wins by way of countdown!"_

"NOOOOO!!!!!!" To say that the colossus Megaton flipped out upon hearing those words would be an understatement. What the basalt creature did went well beyond unsportsmanlike conduct.

The injured Fein staggered over to his beaten opponent. "Uhmm…., Megaton! Hello! Earth to Megaton! Come in!!" He was soon joined in the ring by Yeung and announcer Akira.

"Wow…., he sure is trippin out," muttered Yeung.

"Yeah…, help me roll him over," ordered Fein. The two teens grabbed an arm and a leg and hefted the beast onto his front. As they did this, Megaton swung wildly, taking Fein's legs right out from under him. With a soft 'splat!,' Fein face-planted unceremoniously.

"Hyahhhh!!! NOOO!!!" Megaton swung it's fists wildly at the floor, powdering concrete. In its fit of madness, the creature drooled profusely.

"Jesus Fein! What did you do?" Yeung asked.

"I dunno! I just beat him by knockdown," answered the dark-skinned youth.

"I'm afraid it's more than that." The two boys whipped around to see Mercenary Toa standing in the ring.

"What's that supposed to mean, Master?" inquired Yeung.

"The turtle student didn't just beat him. He broke him!" Toa continued. "This monster came very close to winning a decisive victory. He really did believe deep in his soul that it was going to be him who fought Hard Copper in the next round. He wanted it more! His mind was just unable to handle such a humiliating defeat. Why this otherwise gentle mountain creature chose to enter this tournament is a mystery."

Just then, all those standing in the ring were whipped around by a dull 'boom.' Behind them stood Hard Copper, the object of many of the contestant's frustrations. "I can answer that question."

"You!" spat Yeung.

The gargantuan Korin Indian laughed horrifically. "One year ago, I went to this thing's mountain sanctuary and threatened to butcher his people if he didn't enter! His ritualistic humiliation is the source of my adulation as will yours be after my next match!" Hard Copper leveled a finger at Fein before trudging off the platform.

"I'll be facing him in the quarterfinals," said Fein. The dark-skinned teen visibly paled a few shades. From behind, Yeung placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Fein," spoke Yeung softly, "I wouldn't ask you this unless it was important but…."

"What is it man?" asked Fein.

"Fein! Please! Forfeit your next match!"

"Huh?" Fein was taken back by his former junior's request.

"Listen! Your pride is important I know, but this guy's way outta your league!" asserted and exasperated Yeung. "You're just not strong enough!"

"You're outta your fucking mind!!" shouted the older teen, roughly batting Yeung away. "This tournament is my only chance to make a name for myself, and no one and nothing is gonna take that away from me!"

"Damn it dude! That monster is different from us all!" screamed Yeung. It was then that Yeung felt a rigid hand fall on his own shoulder. He turned to see his teacher Toa Pai-Pai standing behind him.

"Let it go boy," said Toa. "He wants to learn things the hard way. He has his demons and you have yours!"

With a shrug, Yeung's shoulders dropped a good two inches. Both he and Toa turned to leave the ring.

Just outside the ring, Hard Copper and Siafu were being frisked for weapons by MAS officials. The referee in question eyed Siafu's menacing claws and fangs with trepidation.

"Couldn't you have ground those things down before entering?" questioned the official.

"Grrr…, Yes but then it wouldn't be much fun!" answered the jungle cat.

"Oookay….'psycho'!"

Across from him, Hard Copper chuckled sardonically. Sick fantasies of what he wanted to do to his opponent play back and forth in his hateful mind.

Siafu, for his part was unnerved by the look the Korrin Indian was giving him. Despite standing at a massive 7ft 2in and weighing in at over 400Ibs, the fierce predator had to look up just to see the current champion's scarred face.

Power Levels:

The Dragon: 75

Snoozenheimer: 35

Fein Okonkwo: 175

Megaton: 90


	19. Dust Bunnies in a Hurricane

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball, DragonBall Z, or any of the characters associated with this great manga. These manga are the exclusive property of Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation. However, Rolo Yeung, Hard Copper, and Fein Okonkwo are my original characters so hands off.

Chapter 19: Dust Bunnies in a Hurricane

"_Will Champion Hard Copper and contestant Siafu please enter the ring?"_

The crowds whipped themselves into a fevered frenzy as the current National Champion Hard Copper stepped into the ring followed closely by his opponent, Siafu the Leopard. After much debate, the MAS(Martial Arts Society) President finally conceded in allowing Siafu full use of his natural claws in the upcoming battle, albeit with much controversy.

"_I tell ya Al,"_ began co-announcer Firecracker, _"Never have I seen such a desire to kill! Hard Copper's face is set in stone! Awesome,...just awesome!"_

His partner Mr. Akira, grimaced internally. _"Considering that this is Hard Copper, I just hope we don't see a repeat of last year's performance…"_

"_It took three days to clean up the mess!" _added Mr. Fireracker. _"And he let that guy live!" _

Siafu cracked his feline knuckles in anticipation for the slaughter to come. The large jungle cat annihilated his human competition in the preliminaries, quickly securing himself a spot in the quarterfinals roster.

The massive jungle cat tried to stare down his even larger human opponent. "During the entire Prelims, I was forbidden my use of claws!" he growled. "I was forced to fight as a human, with my fists closed!"

"So what of it?" chided the monstrous Native.

"Tempered as I was, it was like having a big juicy steak right in front of me and not being able to eat it!" explained the jungle beast. "It played with my senses! Now I am unhindered. Accidents _may_ happen! Ha,hahahaha…."

Hard Copper smiled menacingly at his quarry, "There can only be one predator in this jungle!"

"_Contestants! You may begin!"_

"And so the hunt is on…," whispered the jungle cat.

"So it is." Hard Capper couldn't resist grinning ear to ear. He lived for stuff like this!

"Come!" taunted the giant Korin Indian, "I won't kill you…much."

Dropping to all fours, the massive anthromorphic jungle beast went into a run. Its fangs bore, Siafu pounced upon his quarry. Just as the creature was about to chomp down on the dreaded Mountain King's face, a loud 'snap' rang through the field.

Looking down, Siafu found himself being held, suspended in the air, his fangs just short of his target. It was the Mountain King's iron-hard fist that brought him to a halt. As if a firecracker had gone off inside him, a contusion erupted in the feline's rib cage, sending him crashing to the floor.

"_What the…? Ladies and Gents! Contestant Siafu has been injured!"_

"I didn't even see him move," said Announcer Firecracker, aghast.

"Neither did I...," seconded Mr. Akira. "We better call the fight before this gets ugly!"

"NOOO!"

The astonished announcer duo looked upon the downed Siafu. The jungle beast was crumpled in a fetal position at Hard Copper's feet.

"NO!" Siafu screamed, "I can still do this!"

Looming like an ominous cloud, Hard Copper towered over his downed adversary. Amused, the giant Indian began to taunt, the words coming too like a whisper. "Try as you might, you were never destined to be at the front of the line. I see now that that spot is reserved for only one."

Turning around, Hard Copper prepared to leave the ring. '_Come on! I dare you! Get up! I want you to get up…!'_

To say that his opponent was flabbergasted, was putting it mildly. Siafu clawed at the tiled floor, as if the will to stand were something he could just seize out of thin air.

"Come back here!" growled the downed jungle cat. "Y-you can't do this to me Mountain King! Remember your promise! Long ago, you said this would be our battle! Don't just walk away!"

Outside the ring, Yeung, Tien, Mercenary Toa, Fein, and Master Roshi looked upon the spectacle with mixed interest.

"These two have met before," explained the Turtle Hermit.

Toa Pai-Pai nodded in accordance. "Right now, there are more emotions tied up in that one acre of concrete than any of us will ever know!"

"_What's this?"_ The actions of the reigning National Champ left the announcers absolutely baffled. _" Contestant Hard Copper is walking towards the edge of the ring! Could this be a forfeit?"_

The behemoth native stopped just short of the ring's edge. In the center of the platform, his opponent struggled to pull himself up. Finally, Siafu stood.

"Don't you turn your back on me!" Siafu snarled. If it weren't for his feline ears, the jungle predator would not have heard his opponent's gruesome chuckle.

Reaching over his shoulder, Hard Copper brought his thumb and middle finger together, and with a quick snap of his fingers, sent a wave of compressed air back at his wounded opponent. The pressure wave tore into Siafu with the force of an anti-personnel grenade. Concrete was powdered and blood and fur were strewn about the site of impact. When the smoke cleared, a gaping crater lay in the center of the ring. In the middle of that depression was an unconscious Siafu.

"_Um…, Siafu is down," _said Mr. Firecracker. Turning to his colleague, Mr. Akira, he asked, "Do you think we should we start the count?"

"A knockdown is a knockdown…," stated the blond announcer. _"One…"_

"Count all you like," began Hard Copper to himself, "He's not getting up."

"_Ten! Siafu is out! Champion Hard Copper advances up the ranks!"_

In the stands a ruckus played out among the spectators. "That's not surprising!" stated one. "Looks like HC's gonna win this one too.." mussed another. Down in the field, panic had broken out among some of the other participants…

"He didn't even touch him!" shouted an exasperated Spopovitch.

"Inconceivable!" blurted Mr. Satan.

"He isn't human…" whispered Caroni.

"Hmm…, Karrin-sama's training has granted that man abilities far surpassing anything my training could accomplish," said Roshi. The old master turned to his student. "Fein!"

"Master?"

The Turtle Hermit's plea had desperation to it that Fein hadn't heard since he began his tutelage under the aged sage. "I want you to forfeit!"

Fein could not believe what he was hearing. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"Listen boy!" ordered Roshi, "Regardless of what you've learned under me, you cannot defeat that monster! Your levels are just too different!"

"You're senile!"

"And you're fucking stupid!" retorted the hermit, "If you press Hard Copper, he _will _bury you! Come back with me and train for one more year. Anything's possible!"

"Sorry Master but you know I can't do that!" asserted the dark-skinned teen. "There is only one way that guys like me can find themselves, and that's going through freaks like him!"

"Fein, you're a fool!"

"And you are dead weight!" With that said, Fein marched off in a 'huff,' a nagging Master Roshi tromping after him.

"This is gonna get ugly…," said Yeung to himself.

"You have no idea." From behind came his seifu, Toa Pai-Pai. "Concerning his next fight, the Turtle student has more than his work cut out for him!"

"Yeah..," Yeung sighed.

"However, I agree with what the kid sez," opined Toa, "There is relatively little to worry about until crossing paths with big, tall, and ugly. It'll be you and the Moutain King in the semifinals."

"Master.., do you honestly think I can defeat him?" asked Yeung pleadingly.

"Up until now, he hasn't shown his true abilities so it's hard to say." Toa stroked his mustache in contemplation.

Meanwhile in the stadium infirmary, the North City coroner threw back the plastic opening of a black body bag containing the recently deceased Yakuza, Rat. Colored a pale purple, the cadaver was riddled with lacerations and contusions.

"There's not a lot left of this guy is there?" asked the man.

"Hmm…," mused a second.

Unnoticed by either of the two men, the body began to stir. Suddenly, the eyes of the presumed-dead killer flew open. Taking a moment to get his bearings, the infamous gangster observed his surroundings.

Having their attentions fixed elsewhere, the coroner and his assistant didn't catch what was happening until it was too late.

"WHAT THE!" screamed the assistant, paling. The coroner turned to see what the fuss was about only to have his face torn clean off. The older man skull-planted in a fit of pain on the cold room floor.

Rising from the table, Rat the Iron Bullet reached for the now dead coroner's assistant. "Come here you!"

The unfortunate mortician backed himself into a corner. Rat sized the man up.

"Help me with your friend over there," ordered the revived killer. "If you cooperate, I might let you live."

"Uh…, O-OK!" stammered the petrified assistant. Grabbing both ends of the deceased coroner, the two lifted the body onto the table recently occupied by Rat.

"I need his cloths and his ID," demanded the assassin.

Minutes later, what looked like a bloodied version of the coroner stepped out of the infirmary. Reaching up, the man peeled away his face reveling that of Rat underneath.

"Someday, that kid and I will finish what we started." Refitting the grizzly mask, the Yakuza hit-man turned to leave, a sardonic laugh following in his wake.

Back on the field, the contestants of round five prepared to enter the ring. Draped in heavy robes, the first one, Ackmed, was a tall, big-boned Arab man who sported a thick, bushy beard. Topping off his look was a headdress fastened in place with a bronze-colored linen tiara.

The second contestant, Jezebel, was a mountain-sized female wrestler. She was Beatrice's older sister and tag team partner in the Pro circuit. Her thighs were the size of drain pipes and her torso was a stocky as a man's. She was homely in appearance and bore a crushed nose from the prelims. The tournament official charged with frisking the two participants was reluctant to touch Jezebel for obvious reasons.

"_Everyone, we have good news!" _chimed Mr. Akira, _"Contestant Siafu is not dead! So.., let's get on with the show!"_

"_We'll start with contestant #9," _added Mr. Firecracker. _"In his home country, he is renowned for his skill with a halberd. In the preliminaries, his bear hug put the squeeze on a number of opponents! Give it up for Ackmed!"_

"_Mmmhmm," _nodded announcer Akira, _"And his opponent, you all know her well, the elder of the Fitzpatrick duo, Jezebel!"_

"Hmph!" huffed Ackmed, "I cannot believe these infidels would pit me against a she-devil! I ISSUE A FATWA ON ALL OF YOU!" The large Burber male went into a litany of curses, many of which were in an Indo-European dialect few could understand. What was apparent was that Ackmed was pissed…

"Cool your jets ragweed!"

Doing an about-face, Ackmed was pulled into a towel hug by the elder Fitzpatrick sister, bringing the two of them nose to nose.

"Err…You filthy whore! HOW DARE YOU!" Bringing up a hand, the large man slapped Jezebel sideways. "You vulgar vagabond! I care not about the rules! I sentence you to death the moment we step into ring!"

"I take it that that is your way of asking for a date," guessed the gargantuan woman, dabbing her bloody lip.

In the ring, the two contestants engaged in the oh-so-common stare-down. For Jezebel, there was no fear, only a desire to get the horse and pony show over with.

Ackmed for his part was exceptionally tense. Here he stood preparing to break what to his people constituted a major societal taboo. A man of his tribe was prohibited from striking a woman unless she walked in public without being accompanied by either her husband or an older male member of her family. If such was the issue, and in Jezebel's case it was warranted, his holy laws deemed the said women a sharlet, a whore who is to be put to death on the spot. Such was the conundrum: The tournament prize money or his religious purity. In his sash he had carefully hidden a short curved blade. Money was not an issue. He was already a member of a fabulously wealthy, emirate family.

His mind made up, Ackmed prepared to uphold his culture's code of honor. When the gong wrung, the most unclean sharlet was to die by way of beheading.

"_You may begin!"_

At the sound of the gong Jezebel ran at her Middle Eastern opponent. The sight of such a huge woman tromping at him, cowered Ackmed somewhat. In all his earlier rage, he overlooked the fact that Jezebel was nearly as big as he was. Surely, he would kill this bitch, assuming he didn't get walloped trying.

Finally with the distance between them erased, the life and death struggle began. Ackmed lunged at the huge woman, trying to catch her in his patented, bone-splintering bear hug. Coincidentally, Jezebel had the same idea. The two giants of opposite gender locked in a terrifying grapple from which only one would emerge unscaved.

"_Holy…! A simultaneous bear hug!" _shrieked Mr. Firecracker. _"A realm in which contestant Ackmed dominates! Will his experience land him the leg-up?"_

"Err…, I'll crush your bones!" growled the Arab man. Trying to find a better center of gravity, the giant Imam bent his knees.

To accommodate her opponent's momentum, Jezebel shifted her gargantuan Gadonkadonk body backwards. "We'll see about that lover boy!"

Veins burst and joints popped as the two combatants tightened their respective holds. Sure enough, something gave. A wet 'crick' resounded through the center field. Ackmed's eyes rolled back into his head as the great man slumped to the tiles.

In the end, nothing came of Ackmed's plan to hold a public spectacle, for it was _his_ lumbar region that gave first. Having an opponent that came from a country with far lower health standards, in this case bone integrity, gave the match to Jezebel.

"_And that's that…Jezebel is victorious!" _cheered Mr. Akira. The blond announcer flashed a peace sign at the stands.

"_That she is Akira…that she is,"_ Jody concurred. _"And she shall move up one in the ranking. Let's give it up for Jezebel Fitzpatrick! Tag team Champion of the World!"_

Fists held high, Jezebel trumpeted a loud battle cry reminiscent of something from Xenna Warrior Princess.

"That's one pair of panties that I don't mind _not_ having," the Turtle Hermit remarked.

"No shit!" snapped Toa.

Leaving the ring, the massive woman joined her injured sister on a bench.

"You've always been the stronger one," Beatrice said ruefully. "I'm so useless to you. Sometimes I wonder why you even keep me around…" The younger Fitzpatrick felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder. Looking up, her eyes met those of her older sister.

"Beatrice…," Jezebel breathlessly uttered, "There's always next year." The two siblings shared a moment of warmth a hug can bring.

"_It is now time for Round Six! Will Puntar and Killa please enter the ring?"_

"_As you all know, Killa is the world Middle Weight Boxing champion," _Announcer Firecracker droned. _"Coming up on the mean streets of South Side East City, he is the undefeated 'King of Fists' both in and out of the ring! His indelible record stands at 51-0-2!"_

"_An incredible record by all accounts!" _Mr. Akira concurred, _"However, I wouldn't sell his opponent short though. Punter's MMA combat abilities are nothing short of legendary and his size advantage is breath-taking!"_

In the ring, Punter and Killa stared each other down. The two men had greater aspirations than just the North Kingdom's Nationals. Each had entered the competition as a stepping stone towards future glory in the Tenkaichi Budokai. One had to fall so that the other could make a name for himself later on.

"_You men may begin!"_

Killa, a tall black male, calmly approached Punter. The man showed no signs of apprehension or anger in regards to his opponent. Candidly, the boxer extended his hand to Punter in a display of sportsmanship.

Punter however, had no such code of honor. The fat, burly Indo-European bent down and spat in the extended hand. "I will not sully my hands with your stink!"

"Figures I'd get the asshole," muttered the Middle Weight title holder.

Just as it seemed both men were about to return to their corners, Punter doubled back and snuck up behind his smaller competition. Killa didn't have a prayer.

"WHAT THE?" was the last thing Killa yelped before being ground into the tiled flooring. Lifting his massive leg for yet another strike, Punter brought all his weight down on the incapacitated Killa with the force of a plow drive.

"_Woah! In a blatant act of dirty conduct, contestant Puntar has put his foot down, all the way down on Killa!"_

"Oooh! That looks like it stings!" remarked Toa. If not for his prosthetic face the Crane teacher would have winced.

"Forgive me boxer but I couldn't risk your bringing those fists to bear against me," Puntar chided arrogantly. "You'll understand little boy."

Writhing in agony, Killa floundered about on the floor like a beached fish. The wind had been knocked out of him and his lumbar region felt like jelly. Reaching down, Puntar grasped Killa's ankle and physically hoisted the smaller man into the air.

"Night! Night!" With one great swing, Puntar swung Killa like a hammer straight through the ring floor. Dust and rubble were kicked up as the Middle Weight Boxing Champ was embedded in the concrete platform. For a moment, Killa lay there foaming at the mouth twitching.

"_Contestant Killa is down and by the looks of it, out! I'll start the count! One…"_

"Count all you want," Punter snickered to himself, "That fool isn't getting up!"

"_Ten! And the match goes to contestant Punter!"_

The crowds booed fiercely at Punter's complete lack of sportsmanship. Some went as far as to pelt empty bottles into the field.

Off to the side, Master Roshi, Tien, and Mercenary Toa stood talking amongst themselves.

"This tournament has seen well more than its share of nar-do-wells," mused the old Turtle Hermit. "It's as if none of this upcoming generation have honor."

"Your modern fighters are mostly cut from show business," said Toa. "Most fight for nothing more than their fifteen minutes of fame. There are a few bright spots here and there but for the most part the vast majority are nothing more than paparazzi magnets."

"I don't know who is worse, the fighters or the fans!" snapped Tien in disgust.

"_Ladies and Gents! It is time for the seventh round of the Northern Kingdom Budokai!" _

"_And what a round it's going to be Akira!" _blared Mr. Firecracker. _"For in this match we will have the pleasure of witnessing the return of one of martial arts' greats! Please give a big round of applause to the 22nd Tenkaichi Champion, Mr. Tien Shinhan!"_

Some of the older spectators who were more familiar with the triclops' record stood and offered a bow of respect to the returning champion. The younger spectators either cheered or threw expletives.

"Well…, I'm up." Mercenary Toa gave his one-time student a good slap on the back.

"Take it easy on em," laughed the old killer. Whether Tien heard him or not didn't matter. It had been years since the triclops had set foot in the ring. This was sure to be one hell of a comeback!

Tien along with his opponent Insideout, approached the official charged with weapon searches. The official in question padded the former Champion first. Not wanting to disrespect a former world title holder, the man opted out of checking Tien's mouth and arm pits.

When it came time to frisk Insideout, the man was even more trepid though for different reasons. Insideout was literally a man whose body was inside-out. Due to some miracle of science, nature, or both, this twisted being was a slithering violation of all natural laws.

Tien looked upon his opponent with a mix of pity and curiosity. The creature had overcome all odds and made his way to the finals through the employ of a strange style centered around organ shifting and gastrointestinal squirt gun action.

"_Will the two fighters enter the ring?"_

Tien and Insideout _stepped_ onto the platform. Tien wanted to end this quick so as to avoid injuring his opponent. The two combatants assumed their respective sides of the ring. Right before the signal was given to start, Insideout began to speak. Even his/her/it's voice had a slithering quality to it.

"Sssooo many foolsss in thisss world think thhhhat fighting is about building up one's body," the aberration hissed, "There are othhher worldsss out thhherrr…One you ssshall soon see!"

"_The two warriors may begin!"_

Instantaneously, the veteran Z-senshi phased in and out of hyper speed, reappearing behind his gobbledygook opponent.

"_WHAT SPEED!"_

Using heat sensors located on his external brain stem, Insideout tried to find his opponent. All of a sudden, the strange creature felt a prick at the back of his/it's 'head'….

From behind, Tien had jabbed a finger into what he thought to be his opponent's cerebellum. The shock left Insideout falling forward face first.

"At least I didn't have to hurt him," said Tien. His task complete, the triclops turned to leave the ring.

"_And it seems that contestant Insideout is out cold!" _ The co-announcers Mr. Firecracker and Mr. Akira prepared to start the countdown until…

"_Wait…, What is this?" _

"Huh?" It was then that he sensed it. It was vague but still there. Despite being infinitely outmatched, his opponent Insideout stirred.

"Looks like I missed the acupressure point," said Tien.

"Not quite!" replied Inside out. Out of the conglomeration of disconfigured organs and connective tissue, a form began to take shape. Bones and cartilage began to knit themselves together. Tendons shifted and muscle fibers and nerves slithered around the resulting frame. Finally, with the cerebral cavity and brain tissue in place, the frontal plate of the skull set itself allowing the face to reattach itself. When it was all said and done, a naked man stood in the center of the ring.

"That's a new one on me," said Tien to himself.

"You like that one eh?"

"It's…. interesting," mussed the triclops.

"Oooohhh!" Clapping his hands like a giddy school kid, the doppelganger Insideout squealed with delight. "To hear praise such as that from a former champ! Oh, how it warms this old circus performer's discombobulated heart?"

"You're a circus sideshow?" Tien's jaw fell just a little at that.

"Oh yes!" Insideout shot back ecstatically, "I was once considered the 8th wonder of the world you see! Insideout the shape-shifter! That's what they called me! My ability to shift and bend my body like a pretzel made me famous."

Tien stood there 'seat-dropping' for a moment before saying, "Uhh…,That's very nice and all but I didn't come here to hear your life story. Your fifteen minutes of fame has passed!"

"Oh but wait! You haven't heard everything!" implored the former circus sideshow. "I was not content with just bending and swallowing whole sections of myself! You see, I wanted to transcend!"

"_Will contestant Insideout please shut the hell up and start fighting?" _begged one of the announcers.

"Yes please!" huffed Tien. Insideout looked hurt at this.

"You're just like all the rest of them!" he shouted accusingly, "Never acknowledging my keen intellect! My innovations! Well, no more! With this victory I will rise to a level of fame that none have seen before!"

With that, the gobbledygook man brought his arms to his sides. Again his body began to discombobulate and bulge ever which way.

"You can't knock me out if you don't know where my vital points are!" The talkative sideshow freak was about to say something else until he was caught by a powerful uppercut to the center.

Tien stepped back and gave his opponent some room to breath. Mouth limply hanging open, Insideout continued to stand there. His legs felt like water and his vision was going fast. With a light 'thump' the strange cretin face-planted on the tiles.

"_Contestant Insideout is out cold! The match goes to Tien Shinhan!"_

"At least he's quiet," muttered the three-eyed warrior.

"A little rough don't you think?" Master Roshi asked.

"This event is for fighters," said Tien, "Not attention-hungry Hillary Duff wannabes!"

Out of the blue, the stadium erupted into a heated frenzy.

"Speaking of wannabes…."

Decked in resplendid robes and flanked by his two close students Piroski and Caroni, Mr. Satan waved to the crowds.

"_Here he comes people!" _Mr. Firecracker beamed with pride. For years, the slick-haired announcer had traveled and worked with Mr. Satan. Even before the Cell Games, he practically made Mr. Satan the star he was on the Super Fighters circuit. _"You know him! I know him! He is the savior of mankind! Your hero and my very best friend MR SATAN!"_

In the stands, fangirls waved Mr. Satan paraphernalia and signs in utter euphoria. Chants of "Mr. SATAN!" resonated for miles as the people's 'champ' stepped into the ring.

"YEAH!" bellowed the burly grease ball. The afroed combatant blew kisses to his adoring fans. "They love me!"

"That they do Mistro." Piroski concurred. "Give them good show. You can't afford to lose this match!"

"You know I will!"

"_And his opponent…."_

In contrast to Hercule Satan, his opponent received nothing but scorn, scorn that bordered on hatred.

"_Standing 6 ft 7in. The most notorious of the Super Fighter Circuit! The wildman of backyard brawling! Spopovitch!"_

Spopovitch was a renowned cheater in many of his matches. Oil slicks, tacks, powdered glass…. Nothing was too dirty!

Just as the muscle-bound redhead was about to step in the ring, he was grabbed roughly from behind. Being spun around, the super fighter was brought face to face with the event official charged with pat-downs.

"You want something?" the brute chided threateningly.

"You know the rules!" asserted the official.

"For every rule there is a twenty dollar bill." Spopovitch flashed a toothy grin, adding emphasis to the implication.

"Hmm, alright!" said the man. Reaching into Spopovitch's spandex, the MAS employee fished out a waded fifty.

"The deal was for twenty!" Spopovitch whispered harshly.

"Considering what will happen to me if you get caught, I should have pulled out more!" With a swift pop on the rump, the official gave the massive redhead the 'all clear.'

Stepping onto the platform, Spopovitch fixed an angry glare on his opponent. It wasn't long ago that Mr. Satan held the Super Fighter heavyweight championship title that he now had. The carrot-topped beast tried his best to build a career in the arena on par with that of his predecessor but to no avail. This would be his last chance to rise up and surpass Satan.

Paying no mind to his adversary, Mr. Satan continued to wave at his fan base. The sad thing was, he was ignoring Spopovitch on purpose. Finally, the afroed Polynesian acknowledged the younger man's presence.

"Spopovitch? I'm surprised they even let a chump like you in the ring!" Hercule arrogantly spouted. "These are my fans so try to give them a good show."

It was as if the older fighter knew just which buttons to push. "Grr….,Why YOU!"

"_The two combatants may begin!"_

Mr. Firecracker barely had time to finish before contestant Spopvitch lunged at the current World Champ. The large redhead was all wide swings, no style at all.

Mr. Satan easily sidestepped his larger opponent, sending Spopovitch tripping all over himself.

"My God you suck!" goaded the Champ.

"GO TO HELL!" screamed brawler. Getting up, the large man charged once again at the Champ. This time however, he stopped just short of Mr. Satan. Reaching into the chest region of his spandex, Spopovitch withdrew some white powder and flung it straight into his smaller opponent's eyes.

Mr. Satan, to his credit, brought his hands up to shield his face from the blinding cloud of white. Spopovitch took this opportunity to make a last desperate wide swing for the man's face. Sadly for Spopovitch, strategy was never his strong suit. In a mindless squandering of opportunity, the man threw his swing at Mr. Satan's raised guard.

"Huh?...You have got to be kidding me!" mouth Mr. Satan disbelievingly. His opponent was a total flop. Spopovitch couldn't even win cheating.

Jumping high into the air, Mr. Satan brought a jaw-wrenching heel kick to the man's frontal lobe. The ensuing strike sent Spopovitch coasting out of the ring.

"Come back when you're older!" Satan shouted at his beaten opponent.

"_And the victory goes to Mr. Hercule Satan!" _gushed Mr. Firecracker. _"Such a great man! I tell ya folks…"_

Outside the ring, Roshi and the others commiserated.

"Ya know! That's one time I'm happy to see that goofball win," admitted Roshi.

"Too bad Tien's gonna humiliate him in his next match," added Toa.

"Come on! He's not that bad," said Yeung. "He takes care of the strays."

"Sadly, beating that bastard is gonna kill the hopes and dreams of millions," admitted Roshi.

"I'll talk to Tien about helping the guy save face," offered Mercenary Toa. "I don't do this often but…"

"…Sometimes the truth can hurt people more than the lie," finished Master Roshi regrettably. "How did it come to this?"

"People let it come to this."

"Well, looks like I'm up!" beamed Yeung in mock cheerfulness. The stout-bodied warrior did a few toe touches in preparation for his next fight. He did not even notice his teacher stepping up beside him.

"If you win this one, it will be you and Hard Copper in the semi-finals," said Mercenary Toa warningly. "However, I don't want you to completely disregard this opponent! The Dragon isn't as weak as you would think. He gets a chance, he'll kill you without a moment's hesitation."

Power Levels-

Average human: 5

Hard Copper: 302

Siafu the Leopard: 85

Rat the Iron Bullet: 107

Ackmed: 30

Punter: 35

Jezebel Fitzpatrick: 32

Killa: 20

Hercule Satan: 30

Insideout: 48


	20. Leviathan vs Behemoth

Disclaimer: I own no part of Dragonball, DragonBall Z, or any of the wonderful characters therein. Rolo Yeung, Fein Okonkwo, Hard Copper, and 'The Dragon' are mine however so hands off!

Chapter 20: Leviathan vs. Behemoth

And so with Mr. Satan's ridiculously easy victory against Spopovitch, the next stage of the quarterfinals began. Initially, over two hundred fighters had entered. Through broken bodies and dreams alike, the vast majority fell to the wayside. Now, only eight contestants were left to jockey for greatness…

"_Will contestants Rolo Yeung and 'the Dragon' please enter the ring?"_

"Well, I'm up!" The midget warrior did a few toe touches before his big entrance.

"Listen boy!" spoke Toa warningly, "I don't want you regarding this next fighter as some kind of half-assed stepping stone! Hard Copper may be your goal but it will not do to miss the forest for the trees."

"Right!" nodded the boy. With that both he and his opponent approached the tournament official for inspection.

While Yeung was being frisked for contraband, his competition, The Dragon, eyed him anxiously. The older fighter had been watching all of Yeung's matches, waiting for a weakness to present itself. He was not going to let some youthful upstart just waltz in and have a go at the National Champ. Hard Copper was his and his alone!

Stepping into the ring, the two combatants readied themselves for the war to come. There were no words, only looks that could kill.

'_The boy's power is amazing!' _thought The Dragon. _'Such strength! Hemaron, Bridled Fury, Master Lee, Rat…..None of them could do it. My Eight Drunken Gods are beginning to seem pretty mortal!' _

Before the match began, Yeung walked right up to 'The Dragon' and glared at the older man. 'The Dragon' was at least a head taller than him so the kid had to tilt his head back. Even with his recent growth spurt, his size often made it difficult for anyone to take him seriously.

"You think you're sneaky huh?" goaded the small warrior. "Not everyone missed the crap you pulled earlier! I want you to know that if you press me, I'm gonna bury you!"

"_Umm….Will contestant Yeung please return to his side of the ring?"_ asked one of the announcers nervously.

The Dragon was about to go after his smaller adversary. The only thing stopping him was that the match had not yet started.

"Oh, you just wait boy!" spat the Kung Fu master, "What I do to you is gonna make Snoozenheimer's death seem like a mercy killing!"

"If only you were that out in the open when you killed that other guy…"

"How you win doesn't matter!" shouted the older warrior. "A fighter cannot be tied down by his master's teachings as if he were some child clinging to his mommy's apron!"

"What you did was completely uncalled for!" Yeung sneered.

This last bit of sermonizing left 'The Dragon' doubled over in sardonic laughter. "Someone with as much blood on his hands as you telling me what is morally right! That's rich!"

"_In the last round, Yeung crossed horns with Rat the Iron Bullet, leaving his opponent broken and dead! 'The Dragon' on the other hand, skid by in his first match when contestant Snoozenheimer's own fire breathing technique backfired, incinerating the massive German from the inside! Which of these two killers will make it to the next round? Is it even possible for there to be a winner without one icing the other?" _

On his side of the platform, Yeung assumed no stance.

"_The two fighters may begin!"_ declared Mr. Firecracker.

Upon receiving the go ahead, Yeung continued to stay put. His opponent however, warily inched towards him a little at a time. 'The Dragon' intended to play this smart.

Finally, once within range, The Dragon inhaled deeply. Bones popped as the older warrior's chest cavity expanded like a fleshy balloon. At maximum capacity, the man's gut began to glow with a blue ember as if it were a bug zapper. As his internal temperature increased, sparks of lightning passed to and fro through his midsection.

"_Holy Shit!" _cursed Announcer Akira, _"Everybody hit the deck!"_

The flood gates opened and a wall of blue flame shot out at the boy warrior. Yeung leaped high into the sky to avoid the onslaught. Closing his mouth, 'The Dragon' followed suit.

"I thought you were going to bury me!" Dragon snickered to his quarry.

"Caskets are like packages," replied Yeung. "'Some Assembly Required' is on them for a reason!"

Slowing his assent, Yeung doubled back to engage his opponent in midair. The two warriors came together in a bloody tumult high above the arena.

On the ground, a titan of a man regarded the contest with interest.

"You're holding back boy!" Hard Copper whispered to himself. "What are your limits?'

"Hey ugly!"

Snapping around, the colossal Indian found himself looking down at the dreadlocked, black kid who Yeung was with earlier.

"Don't you worry about Shorty up there!" warned Fein. "Your next fight is with me!"

Ignoring Fein entirely, the beast of a man went back to watching 'the Dragon' and Yeung's aerial exchange.

"Err….HEY! Don't ignore me! HEY ASSHOLE! I'm talking to you!"

"He's powerful…" spoke Hard Copper.

"Huh?" Taken back, Fein stepped away from the giant Indian.

"He's your friend isn't he?"

"Yeah! So what?" asked the black teen.

"That's good….," purred the sadistic Native, "It will prove very useful to me."

"I ain't helping you, creep!" Shuddering, the young man jumped back.

"I'm afraid you won't have a say in the matter," the Mountain King chuckled. "Your death at my hands in the next match will show me his limits!"

"Yeung won't get a chance to fight you because I won't let it happen!" The dark-skinned adolescent stood toe to toe with the Korrin giant. "Better believe it man!"

"If you struggled against a fighter of Megaton's caliber, then you have no hope of toppling me!" Hard Copper snarled, "You will try and you will die! Your death will serve as the key to unlocking that boy's hatred."

"Hatred?"

"Yes….," hissed the older man, "Buried under that midget exterior is a God of Death the likes of which comes along once a millennium! I want to bring it out and crush it!"

This creep's obsession with Yeung disturbed Fein to no end. To top it off, Hard Copper's ki presence was downright smothering.

"Prepare for your next fight," said the Korrin Native, "It _will _be your last!" Cackling like a psycho, the colossal man trudged off.

"I really wish you would forfeit…."

Jerking around, Fein came face to face with his own Master Roshi. "It's good to know my teacher has so much faith in me!"

"You're not ready for him," the Turtle Hermit said sternly. "If anything, telling that man you and the Crane student were close was the worst mistake you could have made."

"How so?"

"My God boy! Are you really that blind?" nagged the old hermit shaking his head, "The bastard was fishing for information. Before, he would have just roughed you up in the next match! Now however, he's going to hurt you!"

"Only if I let him!" Putting on a show of bravado, Fein puffed his chest out.

The old Turtle Hermit face-palmed. "They never listen…" he muttered. It was like talking to a brick wall. Goku being the one exception, none of them did. "I'm half-tempted to break your leg right here! At least then I don't have to watch you get yourself killed!"

High above the ring floor, the match between Yeung and 'the Dragon' raged on. After an initial back and forth, it became painfully obvious to the Kung Fu master that Yeung's physical strength and speed far exceeded his own. One issue that disturbed him more than anything was his shorter adversary's ability to stay air born for extended periods. The brat just seemed to hover in place long after Dragon himself had to come down. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

'_Damned! Air born quarrels aren't helping me at all! What the Hell is going on here?' _wondered Dragon. Breaking off from the exchange, the kung fu master dropped to the ring floor below.

Once on the ground, the fire-breathing warrior peered up at his under aged adversary. To both his amazement as well as that of everyone present, the half-pint teen was floating in midair.

"_Holy Cow! Contestant Yeung is levitating!" _shouted a flabbergasted Mr. Akira.

"I see it but I don't believe it…" muttered Mr. Firecracker cleaning his glasses.

"Sad thing is… I can whip you without even having to cross fists!" hollered the boy. "Observe!"

Pointing his right index finger at a place in the ring just in front of his opponent, the under aged combatant channeled a small amount of latent energy into his fingertip. Upon reaching critical mass, he released his concentration and let fly with the Crane School's signature technique.

"Dodonpa!"

'The Dragon' barely had time to perform a tuck and roll before being assailed by stone shrapnel fragments from the ring floor.

"Err…Wait! This isn't fair!" shrilled the older man. "Fight me like a man!"

"I was and you were still getting pwned…badly!" Yeung retorted smart-assedly. "You're just not worth the effort!" The boy released a small salvo of Dodon Rays that drove his ground-locked opponent to the edge of the platform.

'The Dragon' just barely missed stepping out onto the turf below. Desperate, the kung fu master gambled everything on one last ditch airborne engagement. Releasing a rush of blue flame, the Asian man just missed Yeung's second salvo of ki blasts.

"You're pulling this shit again?" asked Yeung disbelievingly.

Readjusting himself in mid-flight, Dragon tucked into a fetal position and using his fiery breath began to spin like a blazing buzz saw. To say Yeung was thrown for a loop from this latest development would be an understatement.

"WHAT THE…!" The teen terror didn't have time to do anything before being sideswiped in a fiery 'CRASH'!

"_Holy Smokes!"_ announcer one beamed.

"_Instead of accepting defeat at the hands of his opponent, Dragon opted for a last ditch kamikaze attack! ...Such determination!"_

Together, the two combatants fell to the turf below in a smoldering heap. Because 'the Dragon' had a head start towards the ground, the older man struck the grass shoulder first. Yeung on the other hand, landed on some of the other contestants who had gathered on the quad.

"_MATCH OVER!"_

"Who won?" asked Mr. Satan running up to the scene. The two contestants were sprawled out on the lawn in a heap however, only one of them was touching the ground.

"It's the kid…," groaned his student Caroni. Among the beaten contestants congregating on the turf, Caroni was one of the three that Yeung had landed on, avoiding a double ring-out scenario.

Gripping at his aching temple, Yeung pulled himself up. "God-damned bastard…!"

The President of the MAS hobbled up to the scene. "We haven't had a situation like this in years."

"Neither the officials or the announcers saw the ring-out," said Tien.

"I'll get the rule book," offered Mr. Akira.

"_Ladies and Gentlemen! In a double ring-out scenario, Martial Arts Society staff has been forced to consult regulations!" _Mr. Firecracker explained, _"Please be patient!"_

"Well, what does it say?" demanded Pres. Fei Hong hurriedly.

Mr. Akira thumbed through the pages nervously. "Er…uh, section 12 paragraph 4 clearly states that in the event that both contestants fall out of the ring, the one who touches the grass loses the match!"

Pondering this for a moment, the old MAS Pres. stroked his chin. "Hmm…, by the looks of things the only one who was touching the grass was contestant Dragon."

"That and he's the only one knocked cold," added Mr. Satan.

"I guess that makes contestant Yeung the victor on a technicality," spoke Pres. Hong, "Alright, call it!"

"_And the winner by default is the Crane Dojo's Rolo Yeung!"_

"Alright!" cheered Tien.

"Good man!" Fein complemented.

Yeung's sifu, Mercenary Toa, was less than pleased with his student's _win_. Bending down in front of the kid, the cyborg assassin yanked the boy's ear and went into another of his long lectures.

"That was pathetic!"the old killer nagged. "I've told you not to let your guard down! That weakling almost pulled a rope-a-dope on your sorry ass! Egotistical fool!"

Much to the old assassin's surprise, Yeung had no wise cracks or snide remarks. Yeung's only reaction was a sour frown.

"What's wrong?" Toa asked.

"I wanted to make that bastard Dragon pay for killing that contestant," the teen revealed.

"You were trying to destroy his skills(cripple him) in that match?" It was more like a statement than a question.

Yeung nodded. "He doesn't have a stopping point. He will continue to kill others in future tournaments."

"Understood," said Toa. "He too is an assassin. You and he will meet again someday. There will be other chances."

"_Ladies and Gents! It is now time for the next match!" _declared Mr. Firecracker. _"Will contestant Fein and contestant Hard Copper please prepare to enter the ring?"_

"Good…," whispered Hard Copper., "Time to stir the pot!"

Face set in stone, the massive Native swaggered up to Fein and Master Roshi. Chuckling darkly, the gigantic sadist glowered down at his smaller competition. Fein couldn't help but feel sick at the look the Mountain King was shooting him.

"Time to play the game boy!" he snarled.

Fein suddenly found his usual bravado uncharacteristically absent. Having seen enough of this, Master Roshi shoved his student behind him and glared up at the Korin Indian.

"If you so much as harm a hair on my student's head, you will regret it!"

The monster of a man chortled at the spectacle before him. "Ahh…How cute! Does your _grandpa _always fight your battles?"

Then it happened. A vein burst in Fein's eye. His face twitched fitfully at the utter disrespect this bastard was showing his master. There was only one person who could disrespect Muten Roshi and that was him!

"Get in the fucking ring!" Fein snarled. "I don't care if I spend the rest of my life in ICU. I'm gonna FUCKING KILL YOU!"

'_OH no!' _thought Roshi.

"THAT'S IT! GET MAD!" goaded the giant.

The two fighters stomped into the ring. Fein's resolve was ironclad. Hard Copper's bloodlust was insatiable. The judges no longer mattered. The people in the stands no longer mattered. These two were in a dimension all their own.

Staring back and forth at the two contestants, Mr. Firecracker and Mr. Akira were unsure of whether or not to give them the go ahead. "_Umm…whoa. Ladies and Gents! In all my years as an announcer, I have never seen two contestants more eager for blood!"_

"_You can say that again Al!" _Mr. firecracker wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. _ "You two may begin!"_

At the sound of the gong, Fein dashed headlong into his oversized adversary. Hard Copper on the other hand, stood in waiting like a funnel-web spider at the entrance of its' tunnel.

Just as Fein was within reaching distance of his adversary, the young man was thrown back by a wall of something unseen. Well…Almost unseen.

The dark-skinned fighter landed on his backside a good thirty feet from his adversary. Pulling himself up on his elbows, the older teen glowered up at his opponent.

His face adorned with a grin that would make any pedophile envious, Hard Copper towered over his smaller competition like an ominous, dark cloud.

"What the hell just happened!" cursed Fein under his breath, "Did he just….move?" There were no shadows to Hard Coppers movements, no unnecessary telltale signs that Fein caught.

"You were saying something about the midget not getting the chance to face me?" the Giant chided.

It was then that Fein felt it. Little by little, the Mountain King dropped his restraints and allowed his true ki presence to surface. To say the least, it was frightening, very frightening!

"What have I done?" quivered Fein. Standing up, Fein steeled himself as best he could. Only now did he realize the danger that this monster posed.

"_I'm going to die…" _fear gripping at his heart, the young Turtle student stepped back. He continued to back away to the point that he was teetering on the edge of the platform.

"FEIN!"

Fein jerked around to see his old teacher Choppoa standing out on the quad. The old Lion of Martial Arts nodded at the boy. That nod conveyed a thousand emotions. That nod alone was all it took…

With renewed courage, Fein turned to face his antagonist. "There may be a way…"

Bringing his hands to his sides, the youth concentrated a vast amount of latent energy into the tips of his fingers. Raising his shoulders, the turtle fighter began to twist and turn his hands in an intricate series of straight lines. To any onlooker, it may have seemed like just a bunch of random movements. However, this was not the case….

'_Please…., just let Senior Krillain's technique work!'_

High in the stands, Fein's seniors Yamucha and Krillain, fiercely cheered their junior.

"COME ON DUDE!"

"Pull it together man!"

"Hmph! Little fucker's had it!" Vegeta spat.

"How can you say that?" asked Puar disbelievingly, "You're so mean!"

"Just ignore em!" Yamucha remarked. "Fein's fighting for his life down there! Let's let him know that we're here for him!"

"Yeah!" screamed Bulma.

The Saiyan prince huffed in annoyance at his woman and her associates. _'An insect can't defeat an elephant. Cheer on the dreadlocked bastard all you want.'_

Back in the ring, Fein completed the complex series of kata needed to bring his next assault together. Bringing both hands outstretched to his laterals, the young man sprang into the air. The latent energy from his palms left blue ether trailing behind him.

Hard Copper did nothing as his smaller opponent closed in on him from above. Crossing his arms, the copper-skinned brute simply stood there….or at least it looked as if he was just standing there.

Once within range, Fein curled his thumbs beneath his palms and focused all the latent energy in his hands onto them. That done, his arms swung into action. For anyone whose eyes were good enough to see, it looked as if the young Turtle student were using off-target palm strikes crossed with backhands. However, this proved not to be the case.

In theory, the hexagon strike was an aesthetic made by Krillain upon Master Roshi's jinken moves except with the addition of one crucial element: The cutting power of the Kienzan!

Upon connecting with the attack, Fein was certain his opponent would be cut to ribbons. Sadly, it wasn't meant to be….

Fein shrieked in agony as his thumbs were shattered against the Mountain King's iron-hard hide. The young man landed unceremoniously at the awesome giant's feet.

Hard Copper towered over the adolescent, a sneer belying the contempt he had for the little rat rolling in a fit of torment at his feet.

"Let's make this nice and slow…for the audience!" Reaching down, the massive Native yanked Fein off the floor by the scruff of the neck(If humans had such a thing!) and hurled the youth high into the air.

"FEIN!" Master Roshi was beginning to lose it. Yeung had already lost it by then.

"OH GOD NO! FEIN!" the midget boy wailed. Determined to save his friend, Yeung started towards the ring only to have his sifu, Mercenary Toa, put him in a full nelson from behind.

In a brief instant, the monstrous mountain lord hurled a punishing assault into young Fein's medial line. Hundreds of shots landed. Face…,sternum…,pelvic region…., everything was pounded into applesauce.

Bringing his right hand to his side, the Mountain King brought his middle and index finger together. Energy began to channel into the two fingers. Upon reaching critical mass, they glowed white-hot. Finally, Hard Copper completed the strike, stabbing the massive digits through Fein's sternum and into the junior turtle student's primary artery.

"NO!" the old Turtle Hermit wailed.

As if on hooks, Fein was hoisted high into the air for all to see. Hard Copper chortled sardonically at his handiwork, goading those who wished to help Fein into the ring.

"What's wrong boy?" he harped sarcastically at Yeung. "Such a shame that you won't help your friend! Heh,he,he…."

Up in the stands, Krillain and Yamucha looked ready to pounce.

"That bastard!" Krillains hands shook with rage.

"Hell….is too good for him…."shuddered Yamacha.

"Somebody do something!" shrieked Bulma.

Back in the ring, the oversized champion continued to prance around with Fein impaled upon his deadly strike.

"_This has to be against the rules!" _shouted announcer Akira.

"_You think he cares?" _Mr. Firecracker sarcastically remarked.

"_Champion Hard Copper!" _blared one of the announcers, _"Put the boy down!"_

The Korrin giant shot a dirty look at the two announcers. Fearfully, the two officials wilted back.

"For the sake of retaining my spot in the roster, I'll let this little sack of squall wiz live!" Hard Copper chunked Fein's prone body up and out of the ring but not before having one last bit of fun….

Master Roshi scurried frantically to catch his charge before he hit the quad.

Just as Fein hit the ground, the Mountain King took aim with one open palm and channeled a foggy-white ki blast at the adolescent. Before Master Roshi or Yeung could do anything, the blast connected with the small of Fein's back, folding the older boy like a piece of paper. The force of the blast pushed through and pressed Fein right into the dirt like a plowdrive.

On the other side of the quad, Yeung had really lost it. "FEIN!"

"Oh…God…..no." Master Roshi dropped to knees at Fein's side. Fein's ki presence was beginning to fade. The impact mark on his lumbar region smoked like grilled sausage.

Back in the ring, Hard Copper continued to goad Yeung into charging him.

"Come on!" chided the native behemoth. "Don't you care about your _friend_?"

By this time, Yamucha and Krillain had landed on the field. The two looked ready to butcher the sadistic champion where he stood.

"Bastard…." Yamucha hissed. Krillain was ready to bust a vein.

It took a few moments for Yeung to settle down enough for Mercenary Toa to relinquish his hold. Yeung raced over to were Fein lie face down in the turf, old Muten Roshi kneeling next to him.

"Do we have any sensu beans?" asked a very distressed Roshi.

"We're all out!"

"Fein….," whispered the ancient Turtle Hermit. "Why couldn't you have just turned away?" The two were soon joined by Tien, Toa, Krillain, and Yamucha.

"We've gotta get him to a hospital, quick!" snapped Roshi.

"I'll get the paramedics!" said Krillain.

"No time!" interjected Roshi, "Fein's doesn't have long…."

"One of us is gonna have to fly him to the hospital," spoke Yamucha. "I'll take him!"

Just as Yamucha reached down to turn Fein over, Fein's hand shot up and grabbed Yeung's wrist.

"Fein!" shouted all present in unison.

Gaping like an air drowning fish, Fein's mouth opened and closed. The adolescent pulled his long-time friend down until he was ear level.

"W-waste that j-jackass…." It was the last thing Fein uttered before losing conscience.

"Fein!" Roshi, Yamucha, and Krillain fell over themselves to keep his head level.

"Oh, how sweet!"

All present turned to see Hard Copper towering over them. The heartless giant smiled at his latest handy work.

"For so long I waited…..," the massive Indian hissed. "I believed that I would die of age well before I experienced a true fight!"

"Arrragh! You monster!" Yamucha rose to his feet. Fists clenched, the former bandit looked ready to explode. Both he and Krillain started towards the massive Korrin native.

"I'm starting to wish we had entered!" screamed Yamucha threateningly, "I'd take you apart with one arm tied behind my back! Pompous, sick bastard!"

"Wait!" snapped Roshi. The old Turtle Hermit threw himself between his two students and the Mountain King.

"Master…."

"Don't be selfish!" chided the old master. "There is someone here who has more reason to fight him than you! Look behind you…"

The two senior turtle students spun around. Before them Yeung's ki presence grew and grew. The boy warrior eyed his giant arch nemesis menacingly.

"GOOD! GOOD! GET MAD! MWAHAHAHA!" The humungous Korrin Indian belly-laughed at Yeung's feelings of rage over Fein.

"Amazing…." Mercenary Toa said breathlessly.

Tien turned to his one-time sifu. "You noticed it too?"

"I may not be able to sense ki presence like you but my bioscanners can see many things," explained the old assassin, "The boy's living signature is fluctuating like crazy!" Toa's internal scanners continued to monitor his young charge's internal energies until without warning, his right binocular burst.

"YARRGH!" The old hitman clutched at his now empty eye socket fitfully.

"Holy Shit!" exclaimed Krillain. "It's just like on Namek with Frieza's scouters.

"Jeez…..," hissed Toa still gripping at his prosthetic face, "That's gonna be expensive."

"I swear to God Almighty Himself that I'll do whatever it takes to kill you….," shuddered Yeung darkly.

Hard Copper stared down his rival. "Your blood will sanctify my rise to the heavens!"

Author's Note: Yeah I know! This chapter was a little shorter. It took me a while to decide on where I wanted to go with this. The next chapter will be longer.


	21. On the Doorstep

Disclaimer: In no way do I own any part of Dragonball Z or Dragonball. These animes and all characters thereof are the exclusive property of Toei Animation, Funimation, and Akira Toryama. However, Rolo Yeung, Fein, and Hard Copper, are mine so hands off!

Chapter 21: On the Doorstep

"Your blood will sanctify my rise to the heavens!" With that, the current National Champion, Hard Copper, did an about-face and purposefully strode off. Strolling away, the colossus of a man sardonically remarked, "Spend your next few hours wisely. They will be your last!"

Taking one last look behind him, Yamucha flew away with Fein's prone body in tow.

Krillain/Kuririn glared daggers at the monster of a man who had nearly killed his junior student. Gritting his teeth, the former monk groped for words. "How did we miss someone like that?"

"How!" mused the incredulous old Turtle Hermit, "We practically invited people like him."

All those present turned on a heel. Clearing his throat, the aged master elaborated further. "In the last five years we were so fixated on getting ready for threats such as the Saiyans and the androids that a lot of up-and-coming fellers slipped by our notice. The ability to sense ki has its' limits too. The androids and Cell proved that all too well."

"Hard Copper isn't as strong as any of us but he's still stronger than any normal martial artist," Tien added.

"Just how strong is he?" asked Krillain.

"Hard to say but I speculate that his strength rivals the power Goku and Piccolo had when they fought for the world title over ten years ago."

Hearing this, Master Roshi's draw proverbially hit the floor. "B-but that's impossible! Goku and Piccolo are aliens, and Goku reached that level of strength only after spending three years training with Kami-sama! Hard Copper is a human. He hasn't even had access to much more than Korrin's teachings!"

"I think I can shed some light on the subject."

Cupping his still sparking eye socket, Mercenary Toa stepped into the middle of the group. His other hand was on Yeung's shoulder. "I'll tell you now, it's gonna take some explaining so pull up a chair."

"What do you know about this?" demanded Krillain. "You and the kid seem to know a lot about that monster! Let me guess, you found out about Goku's death and decided to make trouble!"

Cracking his knuckles menacingly, the shorter midget stepped up to the former assassin. Understandably, Krillain was still on edge from seeing his junior student suffer at the hands of Hard Copper.

Seeing things were about to get ugly, Tenshinhan stepped in between Krillain and his one-time teacher. "Krillain wait!"

"It's OK Tien." Pulling the burly triclops aside, the cyborg killer stood toe to toe with Krillain. "I can assure you that I am in no way connected with that cretin. A little historical perspective is in order. I'd better let Yeung fill you in on his half first."

"Nine months ago, I passed through a mining town just south of where Cell held his tournament. It was there that I learned of Hard Copper's awesome might. The locals called him the 'King of the Mountain. It was there we fought. I was no match for him!"

"I see!" exclaimed Krillain. "So that's why you were wrapped in all those bandages at the Cell Games!"

Yeung nodded, "Yeah….."

Seeing this as his queue, Mercenary Toa continued, "During Yeung's training with me, he spoke of his battle with Hard Copper. It stirred at the boy's guts and it was his eventual rematch with the Mountain King that my training was geared towards."

"But that still doesn't explain Hard Copper's massive power increase," Roshi interjected.

"I'm getting to that!" Toa snapped. "The crane style is entirely dependent on mastery of Ki manipulation and the removal of fail safes that prevent people from tapping into their inner power. However, there are some factors that allow certain individuals a greater degree of regulation over their ki and by extension their other attributes. One of those factors is body mass."

"I see! So that's why Krillain sucks so much!" remarked Tien jokingly. The said former monk shot his friend a death glare.

"As a person's body mass increases, their ability to facilitate ever greater levels of ki increases with it."

"That explains Yeung's diet," mussed Tien.

"He's still short though," remarked Krillain sarcastically.

"No shit!" Toa spat flatly. "The boy's size at the time created a massive reach deficiency between him and his opponent. I used every dietary means including but not limited to hormone injections. Sadly, he's not old enough to see all the benefits of such a program."

"Yeung will be facing Hard Copper in his next match," said the Turtle Hermit. "How does he fare?"

"After seeing what that oversized bastard is capable of, I wish I had more time to work with the boy," mussed Toa with a defeated tone. "Truth be told, his reach deficiency is still abysmal. He's not very agile. Then there's the added fact that this Hard Copper doesn't seem like the kind to make mistakes. He just carries himself too well!"

Yeung seemed a bit downcast hearing all this.

"I wouldn't worry," said Tien adamantly. Smile broadening, the triclops crossed his arms defiantly. "Yeung can do it! I won't even have to fight Hard Copper in the Finals."

Krillain understood what Tien was getting at. "That's right! The Cell Games!"

"Yep!" Tein concurred, "When this kid is pushed into a corner, shit gets real."

"Huh? Is there something you haven't told me?" Toa inquired.

"You'll see," Tien stated adamantly, "That monster is gonna be in for a big surprise when Yeung and him go head to head."

"_Ladies and Gents! We will now commence with the next match of the quarterfinals!" _

Predictably, the stands erupted into another heated frenzy.

"_And an intriguing matchup it is Akira!" Mr. Firecracker added, "Here we have two contestants who are relatively new to the sport. In one corner we have World Tag Team Wrestling Champion Jezebel Fitzpatrick who in her last fight snapped her opponent in two! In the other corner we have Punter of the Arabian Pit Fighting Association! Let's hope Puntar doesn't meet the same fate as his countryman Ackbar!"_

"_Hopefully, Puntar will be less asinine about the whole culture shock business…" _Mr. Akiraadded_._

"Dude! You can't say that," Jody said off the mike warningly. "You wanna get fired again?"

With a barely audible 'Ulp!" Mr. Akira swallowed hard. "Looks like I'll have to do another press conference when this is over…."

The two combatants stood silently in their respective corners. Puntar, being the larger and older of the two, expected an easy victory. Jezebel on the other hand looked like a wild panther invited into a butcher shop.

"Maybe after I win this competition we can go back to my room," suggested the large Arab man.

"Ohhh…., a little loose for one of your type aren't you?" Jezebel replied playfully.

"_The two contestants may begin!"_

"I've never laid a hand on a woman in my life," Punter stated flatly.

"It's alright if it's your first time," said Jezebel coyly, "I'll be gentle." Smile broadening, the husky woman spread her arms in an octagon stance.

Punter made the first move. The 600 pound Arab dashed into his opponent at surprising speed for a man his size. Halfway bridging the gap between him and Jezebel, the super-sized pit fighter went into a lunar summersault.

"_Holy Shit! Would you look at that folks?"_ screamed an exasperated Mr. Firecracker. _"Over a quarter-ton of humanity is literally soaring!"_

Jezebel gaped at her opponent's unexpected display of aerobatics. The idea that a man of Puntar's size and weight could perform such feats literally made her zone out.

Puntar came down hard onto the ring floor just in front of her. Coming to a fully erect stand, the massive Arab glowered down at his 'smaller' adversary. Bringing up his gargantuan right hand, he smacked Jezebel senseless. Think about the impact sound a sperm whale would make if it were dropped out of a 30 story window, and that would allow you to picture the scene of Jezebel's ventral side striking concrete.

"_Contestant Puntar puts Contestant Jezebel through the floor!" _hollered an exasperated Mr. Firecracker.

Jezebel was by no means completely outmatched in terms of size. At 6ft 2in and weighing in at a staggering 307lb, Jez was the most massive contemporary female fighter of any circuit. Her record of besting most men in and out of the ring was nothing short of legendary. Nonetheless, for the first time in her life the chunky women found herself in a pinch.

'_H-his slaps feel like a train wreak!' _she thought to herself.

"And that is why I cross train in other styles…," Puntar stated flatly.

"What?" Jezebel pushed herself up on her forearms, a tooth falling from her mouth.

"What did you think?" Puntar asked sarcastically, "That just because I was big I was gonna be slow too? Or that I was just some fool with a few extra pounds? I'm fully trained in both Sumo and an ancient art of Yoga-based open-hand known as _Arhat Wind's Fist_!"

Making it to her feet, Jezebel resumed her octagon stance. She was still reeling from her knockdown. It seemed as if her competition had achieved a significant gain early on in their fight.

Rushing forward, Jezebel took a wide right hook at her opponent. Puntar stepped back and allowed Jezebel to trip over his left leg. The burly dame face-planted unceremoniously on the tiled floor, losing more teeth still.

"At the rate this is going, you'll knock yourself out!" remarked the big Arab man crossing his arms. "I'd suggest just giving up."

Jezebel was fuming! The chunky lady was literally turning red at the embarrassment of being ritually humiliated, not just in front of the audience but also in front of her sister.

"You…," growled Jez darkly. "You smug, fat-bodied piece of inbred, homegrown shit!"

"That's… not very lady-like." Punter stated it as if it were just casual. To him, hazing his opponents was just an everyday thing. He didn't get into this business to be honorable, only for the money and the women.

Stepping away, the rotund desert man let his female competitor stand. The woman spat another lose tooth and cracked her knuckles menacingly. She had a look that could burn through lead.

Rushing forward yet again, Jezebel tried using the same technique on Puntar that she had used on Ackbar. Getting on the inside, she wrapped her arms around Puntar's wide girth and squeezed. She squeezed with all her might until she realized something terrifying: She couldn't lock her hands.

'_Shit! It's not working…'_

"My apologies lady!" Lifting his colossal arm, Puntar slammed his fist down hard onto Jezebel's unguarded cranium.

Jezebel kissed concrete and she kissed it hard! The touchdown was so great that the woman bounced on impact.

Outside the ring, Jezebel's younger sister Beatrice could be heard sobbing and screaming.

"_It's a down!" _screeched announcer Akira, "_I'll start the count! One!…Two!..."_

"She's finished," spoke Tien.

"However, she had great inner strength," added Mercenary Toa.

"_Ten! It's over! Puntar advances to the next round!"_

Outside the ring, Mr. Satan prepared for his next match. Touching his toes, the afroed celebrity did a few stretches.

"It looks like you'll be up against that guy over there Mistro," said Piroski pointing towards Tien.

"Hmm…, Tien Shinhan huh?" wondered Satan aload. "Why does that name ring a bell?"

"The announcers said he won the Tenkaichi Tournament many years ago," remarked Satan's second student Caroni. "He was on the tournament roster for years until he stopped showing up."

"Coming out of retirement huh?" mussed the hairy man. "I didn't listen to the guy's speech earlier. I was too busy brushing up on my poses."

"He obviously isn't someone you can sleep on." Caroni regarded his master's next opponent seriously which says a lot more about the blonde man than his teacher.

"I saw him fighting in the prelims," said Piroski, "In all his fights, I didn't even see him move."

"That leaves two possibilities open. Either this Tien is somehow faster than the eye can see or he's a cheater."

"Looks like I'm up next!" said Tien.

"And against the grease ball no less," added Roshi. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: I wouldn't put that face on a cereal box."

"You know," started Mercenary Toa, "I was really hoping Yeung would get to fight that obnoxious pompous! It would have been an easy path to renewed notoriety for my school."

Smiling, Tien doubled back and approached the announcer, Mr. Akira. "Hey!"

"Tien Shinhan!" exclaimed the blonde man cheerfully, "What can I do for ya old boy?"

"I have a request I would like to make." Leaning forward, the three-eyed warrior whispered something into the senior referee's ear.

"Hmm, I don't see why it would be a problem," said the man flatly. "The man did train you."

"Thanks!" Tien flashed him a thumbs' up before returning to the ring.

'_I hope Toa appreciates this.'_

Stepping into the ring, the seasoned Z warrior posted up in his corner. Eyes closed, Tien nodded silently to himself. This was gonna be good!

"_Ladies and Gents! Are you ready?" _The mood of the audience was absolutely feverish. The Satan fans were absolutely giddy with anticipation.

"_That's good, because today we have a special treat for you!"_

"_A treat?"_ repeated his co announcer Mr. Firecracker, _"I didn't think understatements were your cup of tea! No, the word 'treat' doesn't do this event justice, for in this match we have this tournament's first battle between two Tenkaichi Tournament champions!"_

Up in the stands, Bulma, Oolong, Kato, and the others regarded the upcoming match with equal fervor.

"GO TIEN!" screamed Bulma, Puar, and Oolong in unison. Around their little group were piled the unconscious bodies of Satan Fans who made the mistake earlier of bum-rushing Vegeta and Yamucha. At some point due to the antics of said fans, arena crowd control just stopped caring.

"Oh man…., Grandpa is really gonna beat me when I get home," Kato whimpered nervously. He was sure his grandfather had a serious lashing waiting for him. Though Kato tried his best to stay out of the fray, a drunk, middle aged Satan fan slapped his popcorn out of his hand and took a swing at him. Needless to say, Kato knocked the old geezer flat.

"Calm down kid!" implored Bulma assuringly. "This kind of thing happens. The guy touched you first. You were defending yourself. My husband on the other hand…."

"Is it always this bad?" Kato asked.

"I should probably introduce you sometime to a girl named Launch. Now she was a handful!"

"Oh yeah," started Oolong, "Remember when she used to empty SMG clips into the crowds?"

"Or that time she threw a grenade at the World Tournament?" Puar added. "I miss her."

"Hmm…" Bulma turned her attention back to the ring. There, Mr. Satan was going through his usual retinue of idiocy. "I can't wait to see Tien clobber that grease ball."

"You and me both," agreed Oolong. "After what that sleazebag did to Goku and the others, I'd give my pork chops to see him fry!"

"This should be good," murmured Vegeta retaking his seat next to Bulma. "I can see the bloodlust in Three Eyes all the way from up here!"

"I-is he strong?" asked Kato. Aside from him and Master Toa being close, Kato didn't know much about Tien.

"Tien is one of the strongest guys out there!" Bulma said.

On the quad, a standing feud began to erupt between announcer Akira and his coworker Mr. Jody Firecracker…

"I'm telling you that there is no way this Tien guy can beat my friend Mr. Satan!" Mr. Firecracker prattled adamantly. "Fighters coming out of retirement have impossibly long odds against them!"

Mr. Akira was beginning to get a little peeved at the dark-haired correspondent. "I've known Tien for years! I know what the man is capable of! Pitted against him, Mr. Satan isn't even a speed bump!"

"Alright! It's time to put your money where your mouth is!"

"You're on!" remarked Mr. Akira. "Let's say 5000 zeni and a one more thing…"

"What?" Satan's longtime cohort had to do a double-take.

"The loser of this bet has to personally promote the winner's book in their upcoming tour!" offered the blond man grinning.

"Fine! We'll shake on it!"

Back in the ring, Tien stood off to his side of the ring while on the opposite side, current World Champion, Mr. Satan, continued to dazzle and show off to his sheep flock fan base.

"_In this corner…,"_ gestured one of the announcers, _"Standing at 6ft 5in, weight 327 lbs! You all know him for 8 months ago this man took the bull by the horns and saved us all from the monster of Nicky Town! The 24__th__ Tenkaichi Tournament Champion, Mr. Satan!"_

"OH HELL TO THE YEAH!" bellowed the afroed celebrity throwing an eagle spread pose to his paparazzi.

"_And in this corner, standing at 6ft 7in, weight 305 lb! An alumni from the proud Crane Dojo! The 22__nd__ Tenkaichi Tournament Champion! Tien Shinhan!"_

"Hmph! Let's see just what you're bringin to this fight!" Mr. Satan drawled. The current World Champ smiled at his supposed 'quarry.'

"I could care less what you want to see," retorted the three-eyed Z-warrior. "I only entered this tournament to test Yeung!"

"Huh?" Satan cocked his head to the side.

"Words are wasted on trash like you," Tien spat. "You'll understand shortly!"

"Grr… You should have stayed retired!" Anger seethed in Hercule's veins. How dare this relic from a bygone age treat him so contemptuously?

"_You two may begin!" _

Mr. Satan spread his arms into a basic karate stance, feet spread on par with his elbows. Tien didn't even need to assume one.

With a hoarse cry, Mr. Satan barreled into the three-eyed warrior. The man landed dozens of punches, elbows, chops, toe kicks…. All of them struck! And yet….none of them registered.

"Uh… What the hell!" The hairy man began to shake violently. '_It's just like Cell!'_

"Yes it is," spoke Tien.

"Pardon?"

"Your strikes are just as useless against me as they were against Cell." Tien started walking towards the man.

Mr. Satan for his part looked like he was gonna have a heart attack. Aside from Yeung and Hard Copper, he didn't think he'd have to worry about anyone else. If anything, he was hoping to get to the final round where, hopefully, he could bribe Yeung into throwing the fight. The grizzled man backed shakily away from his opponent.

'_What am I gonna do?' _A feeling of dread overcame him. Then it occurred to him….

"H-hey, let's not be hasty here!" begged the champion with more than a little desperation in his voice. "If anything, we might be able to strike a deal"

Hearing this garbage, Tien's face contorted in anger. "How dare you?"

"Huh?" Hercule gasped.

"You don't even have the dignity to keep your materialistic poison out of this ring!" Tien growled. "How a guy like you ever came to be champion I'll never know! It says very little about the people for whom me and my friends laid down our lives!"

"Uh-oh…," was the last thing Mr. Satan whimpered before being hurled across the ring by an unseen force.

"_The Champ just got thrown for a summerset by what we can only describe as an unseen attack!" _Believing what he had just bore witness to be just an optical illusion, Mr. Firecracker adjusted his glasses.

"Oh no…," Tien sneered. "I'm not going to let you lose by ring-out! You're not getting off that easy. A little ritual humiliation is in order."

Propping himself on an elbow, Mr. Satan spat teeth and curses. Standing up, the fraudulent man did an about-face only to find Tien Shinhan looking down at him.

"Err… What are you!" screamed Mr. Satan. Tien's only reply was a well placed backhand that again sent Hercule colliding face first with the concrete.

"A friend of mine gave his life and you spat on his legacy!" Reaching down, the three-eyed fighter yanked the would-be Champ off the tiles by the scruff of the neck.

Reaching up, Mr. Satan grabbed onto the Triclops wrists. The two locked eyes for a moment before Satan began to whimper something incoherently.

"P-please don't do this! You can beat me! Just don't take away my dignity! N-n-not in front of my daughter! I won't lose! The people will! You'll crush their hopes and dreams along with my dignity…."

"You propose I let you save face?" To this, the Champ said nothing.

Closing his eyes, the triclops conceded, "Very well…"

Hefting Hercule over his head, Tien carried Satan over to the side of the ring and plopped him onto the quad below.

"Don't ever ask anything of me again," said Tien authoritatively. With that, the triclops turned away from his now defeated combatant.

"_Match over! The World Savior has fallen! The win goes to Tien Shinhan!"_

"I-I don't believe it," stammered Jody Firecracker. The shock was too much to bear for Mr. Satan's longtime friend. Unable to keep it together, the man collapsed to his knees. "H-how can this be happening?"

Snickering, his colleague and fellow announcer Akira held out is hand. "So…, you wanna pay with cash or check?"

Just as Tien was leaving the ring, he and the giant Hard Copper walked into one another. Despite his impressive height, Tien had to look up just to lock eyes with the man. Hell, Piccolo himself would have to look up.

"It seems the boy isn't the only big game worth hunting," the Mountain lord chuckled sardonically.

"If not for the harm you are capable of causing, I wouldn't even waste my time with you!' growled the three eyed warrior.

"You lived that life once didn't you?"

"Huh?" Tien cocked an eyebrow at this question.

"The struggles! Being in the thick of things!" quipped the Native, "Modern fighters just don't know what they are missing."

"Hmph! You think that beating Yeung will prove that you're the best eh?" growled Tien demandingly, "Well, I'm sorry to say this but you're wrong! It isn't about winning or being the best!"

Closing his eyes, the gargantuan Korrin Indian chuckled to himself. "It seems you've misread me. I couldn't give two shits about being the best!"

"What are you after then?" Tien asked.

"Being the best, a war against one's self, these are but mere delusions that many would-be warriors fall into," he spoke. "A means does not require an end. To be truly unbeatable, a man must cast aside these things. Why would any man want to have an end when 'the way' itself can suffice?"

"The way?" repeated Tien. "You might wanna cut the cryptic shit and just give it to me straight."

"To live like a moth dancing through a swaying flame," answered the Mountain King. "That is what I am. The best only exist to be surpassed! What I am is timeless!"

"Then what was all that shit earlier about 'rising to the heavens'?" quipped Tien.

"Carrying the banner of natural law has always fallen to me!" said Hard Copper. "I know my time as a great warrior is short! Anyone who treads down this path is destined to be swallowed up! However, individual warriors can choose what kind of legacy they leave to the next generation!"

"A legacy…" repeated Tien at almost a whisper.

"Yes…," hissed the colossal man, "Someone has to usher in the next generation of warriors! My life has served as that catalyst for growth. Why do you think there has been an increase in the number of powerful fighters over the last few years? I'll tell you why! It was me!"

"How could you have influenced that?" asked Tien incredulously.

"You existed to create heroes. I create predators! By giving the up and coming generation of fighters a villain to hate and fear, I instill a sense of totality! A sense of desperation! By threatening their lives, their loved ones, I ensure that someone will come out of the woodworks and rise to the challenge!"

You're a monster!" growled Tien.

"Saint or sinner! These labels are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things! I will be remembered as the one who gave this century it's new breed of fighters! Not you, not that baboon Mr. Satan, and certainly not Son Goku! History is being written even as we speak!"

"That would explain the interest in Yeung," Tien shuttered.

"Precisely! Our battle is a proving ground!" Hard Copper enthusiastically declared. "Whose ideals will dominate the future generation? Mine or those of you and Son Goku? Even if I lose the fight with you, it will be too late! The pot has been stirred! The hype has been set! Perception is everything!"

With that, the towering Korrin Indian stepped into the ring.

"He said that?" demanded Roshi. "Oh boy…, as if we needed this now."

"I don't see what the issue is," Toa remarked.

"You couldn't," explained Roshi. "You're too far removed to understand what's been going on for the past ten years."

"Whether on purpose or not, this Hard Copper is actively working to destroy all Goku ever stood for!" Tien growled.

"Yes," agreed Roshi, "He is trying to destroy an ideal!"

"Have either of you given Yeung any last minute coaching?" Tien demanded.

"I didn't know what to tell him," confessed the retired hit man regrettably. "All I could say was 'Remember your training'."

"Don't look at me!" snapped Roshi waving his hands defensively. "I only give ground-breaking speeches like the ones I give you and the others once a lifetime!"

"One thing is for certain…," whispered Tien to himself, "Yeung definitely cannot afford to lose this match!"


	22. Battle for the End of Century

Disclaimer: In no way do I own any part of Dragonball Z or Dragonball. These animes and all characters thereof are the exclusive property of Toei Animation, Funimation, and Akira Toryama. However, Rolo Yeung, Fein, and Hard Copper, are mine so hands off!

Chapter 22: Battle for the End of Century

"_We now begin our first of two semifinal matches!" _blared the first announcer, Akira, _"And what a match this will be!"_

"_Two of this tournament's powerhouses are set to collide in the most spectacular fireworks display since the Cell Games!" _continued Mr. Firecracker, _"In one corner we have the current National Martial Arts Champion! Undefeated in his 30 year reign, Hard Copper has left many hundreds of combatants dead or retired!"_

The Giant Korrin native stepped up to the center of the ring. His scarred form decked in buckskins and feathered Mohawk made this wild man an eyesore even amongst the multitudes of cultures presented at the tournament thus far.

"_And in the opposing corner we have the ever-feisty Rolo Yeung of the Crane School! A prodigy of strength and endurance, Yeung's last public appearance was at the Cell Games where he was casually brushed aside by the monster Cell. We're anxious to see if this youth has the grit to topple the reigning champ!"_

The said adolescent warrior stepped forward, his own Crane School fighting gi sporting the vivid yellows and greens with the Crane School's symbol emblazoned over his right. On the back of his getup the words 'Guns Don't Kill People, I Kill People!' were embroidered in a big yellow sign.

"_Eight months ago, these two locked horns at Hard Copper's home town of Rusty Gulch! This match was widely reported as having put Rolo Yeung on the map as a serious contender. Since then, the boy has trained hard and bulked up! It's going to be a treat to see how the crowd's designated Heel stacks up against the National Champ!"_

Mr. Firecracker could only nod at his colleague. _"One thing is for sure Akira; There are no heroes in this match-up! The crowds have been on the verge of bum-rushing the field since the start of the competition! They absolutely hate these two combatants…"_

"_And with good reason Jody. The National Champ has maimed thousands mercilessly! Contestant Yeung has put dozens of Mr. Satan's students in the hospital and has killed law enforcement in the West Kingdom! Make no mistake about it, I have never seen so many Molotov cocktails hurled onto the field!"_

"I see that you've dressed your best," rumbled the giant champion. "It's going to be a shame scuffing up that pretty _little _gi of yours…"

"Words won't win this fight." Yeung performed and back-flip and landed in his and Mercenary Toa's preferred stance.

"True enough," snickered the colossal man, "Regardless of the outcome of this fight, the future is mine!"

"_The two contestants may begin!"_

All the training was past. All the threats and idle banter was at an end. The only recourse left was a collision course.

The air began to swirl around the arch nemesis'. Granules of sand and powder were kicked up in wild dust-devils at the outskirts of the concrete platform. The two warriors eyed one another, Hard Copper being the more relaxed of the two.

As if out of the blue, tendrils of red and whitish-blue ether, extensions of their ki presence, began to dance over the ground in a beautifully entrancing flow as if heralding the coming battle of fates. Between the two, a purple pinpoint, an energy nexus where their two fighting spirits met, coalesced.

Suddenly, the two took off at one another at near-subsonic speeds, stopping just short of one another. Their forearms clashed against one another is an earth-shattering cross strike that carried into the foundation of the ring. At the outskirts of their colliding essence, a trench was dug was dug into the tiled ring floor.

Breaking away from one another, giant and midget entered into a terrible all-out brawl, as if testing one another for weakness. Tens of thousands of fists were exchanged in but a fraction of an instant. Few of Hard Copper's strikes hit pay-dirt against the smaller, slightly faster Yeung. Conversely, none of Yeung's seemed to affect the Korrin titan, the Native's conditioned hide being harder than any metal.

At the end of the fruitless exchange, Yeung landed in a horse stance back on his side of the arena. Hard Copper simply stood in the center, staring down unflinchingly at his smaller rival. His calm demeanor irked Yeung to no end.

His features contorting into a most grotesque smile, Hard Copper barreled into his smaller opponent full force. Changing tactics, Hard Copper took wide swings at his shorter adversary. With each swing, the air around his punches was compressed into a soup-like ripple. Clearly, even if Yeung did dodge their hammering force the youth was ravaged by the hurricane inducing sonic booms.

Diving between the giant's feet, Yeung sprang upwards and delivered a powerful uppercut with eruptive force, and just as Hard Copper landed, the kid pushed against the giant's midsection with open palms. The muscles in his hands contracting rhythmically, Yeung unleashed a spot-on performance of Mercenary Toa's patented Flood Rush!

Skin and flesh blasted violently from Hard Copper's gut as if it were a grizzly splash on the surface of a meat-pond. Reeling, the Mountain Lord fell backwards and landed hard on the concrete floor.

Outside the ring, Mercenary Toa was ecstatic!

"That a way!" shouted the retired killer.

"Something doesn't sit well with me," Roshi said flatly.

"What's wrong?" asked Krillain.

"You haven't noticed?" quirked the aged master, "That Hard Copper didn't scream or even flinch even as that technique hit home! He seemed totally at ease…"

"That's right!" exclaimed Tien, "But what could it mean?"

"I don't know but I don't like it."

Back in the ring, the colossal Mountain Lord came to a stand. Despite having a big gaping depression where his belly-button would be, he seemed completely nonchalant. The wound itself spat blood like a sprinkler.

"_Champion Hard Copper looks to be mortally injured! We may have to call this one before somebody gets killed! Oh wait….."_

With a low chuckle, the giant placed a palm over the massive gut-hole! The palm glowed with a white ember and around it one could hear a distinct sucking sound. To everyone's surprise, when Hard Copper removed his hand, the wound was gone save for a pink scar.

"_His wounds are gone!"_

"I should be grateful to Korrin-Sama for his training," said the native.

Unnerved, Yeung backed away from his daunting enemy. Hard Copper wasn't even taking a stance.

"I don't understand why you're frightened," said Hard Copper flatly. "We aren't even scratching the surface."

Yeung shot the giant a nasty sneer before dropping into the Crane stance yet again.

"I think I have it figured out…," growled the Mountain Lord. "You think you can get me to play my hand too early! That my size alone will do half the work. Think again runt! I've remained undefeated for thirty years for a reason!"

"Looks like the old man was right," Yeung mumbled to himself, "When the stakes are this high, Ugly doesn't make mistakes!"

"Here's a proposition," stated HC. "Let's drop the sandbagging and fight for real! I'm sure you didn't train for eight months just to half-ass it. I know I didn't!"

It was all the invitation Yeung needed. Hurling himself forward, the boy dropped all constraints. It was clear now that Hard Copper would not allow himself to fall victim to hubris.

The two vicious rivals met in the center of the ring. Yeung hurled toe-kicks and finger jabs at every opening he could find. Hard Copper in turn intercepted the openings, the kid's strikes glancing off his iron-hard skin. Due to the monster's vast reach, Yeung was unable to get close enough to deal any real damage. It was really more a struggle against Hard Copper's inherent physical advantages. Every time Hard Copper would throw a hard right or left, his six foot reach would force Yeung beyond striking distance and whenever Yeung would get inside, he had only enough time to deliver finger jabs and the occasional roundhouse kick to the body. This was to say nothing of the times one of the Mountain King's strikes would hit home. Granted Yeung's training closed the gap between them considerably, Hard Copper's hard rights would blow through his guard like an artillery shell.

It was after one of these hard rights forced him to step back that Yeung had an epiphany. Stepping away, the youth fired a few hastily made Dodonpa at the giant. They seemed to do the trick as Hard Copper brought his own cross guard up to block the crimson beams. The impact knocked the monster of a man off balance just long enough for Yeung to get inside and sweep the giant's legs out from underneath. The giant went crashing to the floor with a 'boom' that shook the arena all the way to the bedrock.

The mountain of a man did not stay down long. Raising his hand towards the sky, Hard Copper brought it down onto the tiled floor with enough force to propel him to his feet only to be met with a roundhouse kick to the face that didn't seem to do anything against his hardened hide.

"The kid just can't seem to do any damage!" remarked Roshi worriedly.

"Tien! Just when is this hidden power supposed to surface?" asked Mercenary Toa. "Seriously, the boy could really use it about now…"

"Truly, if this Hard Copper had been around back in Goku and Piccolo's day, he would have been a force to be reckoned with!"

"Don't get dismayed too quickly," said Krillain out of the blue. "The kid isn't getting too beat up either!"

Back in the ring, Yeung and Hard Copper put their bodies through Hell itself or at least Yeung did. The boy had changed his tactics, applying 'flood rush' to all his attacks. They'd certainly closed the damage gap _some_! They seemed to be the only way Yeung was able to put a dent in Hard Copper's brawny armor.

Hard Copper began to turtle up in an effort to deflect damage away from his body. Taking this as his chance, Yeung dropped to the tiles and began to spin on the back of his neck like a top, delivering dozens of roundhouse kicks to Hard Copper's guard. The power of Yeung's legs far outpaced that of his short arms. Finally, the Mountain King's guard was blasted aside, allowing a heavy strike from Yeung's right foot to hit home. The force was such that it turned the massive native around and forced him to kiss tiles.

The crowds in the stands erupted! It was the first time in history that Hard Copper's guard was broken.

Pushing himself to his feet, Hard Copper cursed violently under his breath. He had actually felt that strike.

His opponent's back turned, Yeung went in to catch him from behind. Needless to say he didn't make it far. Feeling the kid's air, Hard Copper threw his left leg behind him with the force of an atom bomb and fed the hapless youth a mouthful of moccasin. The boy was flung to the floor with enough force that the back of his head squeezed a car-sized pressure crater into the tiles.

Hard Copper had no time to capitalize on his down. Yeung surged up as if nothing had happened.

"You've done a fine job of catching up to me," remarked Hard Copper nonchalantly, "At least in the area of pain resistance! And _look! _You've even found a way to neutralize my toughened hide! I'm impressed…."

"Only the best for you!" Yeung snapped snidely.

"I've fought against dozens of styles over the course of my life, even those with ki-based moves," rumbled the giant.

This was a side of his adversary Yeung had never seen: Hard Copper the teacher.

"Let me show you what I have learned." Bringing his hands out to his sides, the King of the Mountain began to move his arms in a big circle.

"OH NO!"

Roshi and the others looked down to find the God of Martial Arts, Korin, standing beneath them. "He's gonna use it!"

"Korin! Where have you been?" asked the Turtle Hermit.

"Never mind that!" snapped the cat god. "He's about to use 'it'!"

"It?"

"I don't know what it's called but it's one of Hard Copper's finishing moves!" explained the cat god. "It operates on a principle similar to the Genki Dama developed by North Kai!"

"What?" shouted Tien disbelievingly.

"Somehow, Hard Copper developed a high level attack without any prior training from a master!" explained the cat. "Until he climbed my tower, everything Hard Copper learned he discovered on his own! Forged by untold thousands of battles, his fist is a hard style taken to the greatest of extremes! He's a self-taught master on par with Roshi!"

"Oh my God…." breathed Tien.

Back in the ring, the Northern Champion was preparing to unleash his attack on his much smaller opponent. He continued to cast his arms around him in wide circles, stirring the currents in the air; drawing life spiritual energy from the surrounding environment.

"Block this if you can!" Drawing his arms back to his sides, the mountain lord cupped his hands just below his diaphragm and thrust forward. "HEAVEN'S COMMAND WIND!"

All around him Yeung could feel currents of air cutting against his skin as if he were in a tunnel lined with razors. Unable to move, he could do nothing as a bright comet of white light rushed at him.

The ensuing collision kicked up tiles and ring foundation, shaking the whole of the arena. Tremors assaulted all of North Central Metro as air outside the arena became still and heavy. The blast carried through for miles around.

When the dust finally cleared, the results of the ki wave's power were brutally apparent. Deep fissures had opened in the quad just outside the ring and many of the spectators were hurled with lethal force from the front rows of the stands into midrows. Yeung for his part lay seemingly unconscious, his dojo uniform in tatters and his head tilted backwards over the side of the ring.

"_Incredible! Hard Copper's attack has knocked both his competition and a good chunk of the audience out cold!"_

"And to think the Command Wind was only half as strong as it could have been," rumbled the giant. And just as the giant was getting ready to step in and finish the job…

"That's good…" rasped a certain boy warrior. The youth lifted himself off the ring floor. "Because it proves I can at least keep up!"

"Incredible…" whispered the mountain lord.

"That's what my last opponent said," Yeung quipped.

The King of the Mountain let a small chuckle slip. "I was holding back for the sake of our battle! It would not do to end my fun so quickly!"

Dashing forward, the Mountain Lord tried to bring a crushing hard right down on his considerably shorter opponent. Just before the attack hit, Yeung phased out from in front the assault. The punch's trajectory continued on until the attack collided with the ring floor. The force of the punch cast a seismic concussion wave that imprinted a pressure crater half as wide as the ring.

Wasting no time, Hard Copper leaped high into the air where Yeung was waiting for him. There the two squared off, Yeung still unable to penetrate Hard Copper's vast reach. In spite of his massive size, the mountain lord was able to hurl strikes at a velocity on par with Yeung. Just as was the case before, Yeung continued to rely on the 'flood rush' in the face of the monstrous native's toughened hide.

In situations where two comparable opponents are of differing sizes, there is usually a speed advantage held by the smaller. This battle was the exception to the rule. Hard Copper seemed to have all the cards: Superior brute strength, resistance to pain, natural defenses, beneficial attributes, and equal speed. It wasn't too long before Yeung had to break away from the midair fray.

Watching his opponent land in the ring with a resounding 'Boom!,' the boy sincerely hoped the giant couldn't fly. Things were not looking good.

Hard Copper peered up at his floating adversary, smiling ever so broadly. He suspected that the youth planned on carpet-bombing him from the air with energy attacks as he did before against 'the Dragon.'

'_That's fine by me,' _thought the giant. _'I have something that will put a stop to that…'_

Bringing his thumb and forefinger together, the Korrin native aimed his hand at the adolescent. With a resounding 'snap,' he unleashed a wave of compressed air that knocked Yeung out of the sky with the precision of a guided bomb! Yeung hit the cement with a sickening bounce before rolling atop his face in a grounded summerset.

The boy drew himself up on his elbows. His head swimming, Yeung looked around frantically for his opponent.

"Over here." 

Yeung jerked around only to be met by his opponent's iron-hard fist. The punch followed through, plow-driving Yeung face-first through first the ring floor, then the foundation, then the topsoil, the city waterworks, and finally straight through to the underground subway transit.

Aboveground, the ring was wrenched into two halves forced apart by the tectonic forces of Hard Copper's heavy attack, a mushroom-shaped dust cloud billowing high into the air. Many in the audience held on for dear life as the blast concussion came to.

'_Ladies and Gentlemen, National Champion Hard Copper's might is indomitable!' _screamed Mr. Akira. His co-announcer Mr. Firecracker braced himself against one of the adjacent pillars of the quad.

"I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS!" screeched Mr. Satan's spectacled sidekick.

In the stands, several of the spectators, hoping to ride out the powerful shockwave, took to grabbing hold of members of the Z-Senshi.

"THAT BIG BALOOKA IS A MONSTER!" screamed Oolong. The pig took to diving for cover under his seat.

"MY POPCORN!" growled Vegeta, the snack food and soda spilling in his lap.

Down in the arena the dust began to settle. Atop the rubble that was once the ring stood Hard Copper, no less ruffled than when the fight began. The giant looked down with a scrunched up frown upon the deep chasm in which Yeung was unceremoniously buried.

"So…" whispered the native more to himself than anyone else, "I guess you were just like all the rest…" Turning around, the hulking monster of a man casually strolled away from his latest work.

"_Contestant Yeung is down and by the looks of this hole I'd say he's down for good!"_

Deep underground buried under layers of steel rebar, dirt, and powdered cement, Yeung laid out cold. His once sporty Crane uniform was but a distant memory. His face which took the brunt of the Mountain Lord's true strength was torn all to Hell! Teeth were knocked out, his nose was crushed, and his right cheek had a hole where one of his cuspids had turned sideways and punctured the delicate tissue.

"_I'll start the count! One!...Two…."_

Yeung squirmed as images played in his head! It was like being born again. White light came rushing at him as he traveled down a long tunnel. An eyelid cracked open and it was like a flood gate had opened inside him.

"_Three!...Four-Huh?"_

All around, bits and pieces of rubble were wrenched up and danced in a mesmerizing circle above the yawning maul. The Earth shook with great force as if something distant were upending the very crust upon which the city lay. Finally, a hollow deep ember began to radiate from the hole where Yeung had been cast.

Jerking around, Hard Copper couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was as it was eight months before. Yeung imbued with a red ember, came to stand before him, his head tilted towards the ground. Blood dripped like hot fudge from the boy's mouth, ears, nose, and eye sockets. His eyes bore ghastly, white ether that grew with every passing moment.

"What's with his eyes?" asked Krillain who was more than a little creeped out.

"It's like….the lights are coming from inside his skull," Tien observed.

With a blood-curdling screech, Yeung threw his head back and let it all come forward; the strange hidden power that was the sum of his whole. The white glowing ether spilling from his eyes began to hurl photon bolts across the arena. Pallor tendrils arced off the concrete, off the spectators, from all around. Atomic bonds in the immediate area came undone and the light of the surrounding world began to bend around him in a horrifying gravity well….an event horizon!

The event horizon gained kinetic energy and began to expand, forming a dim red dome of contorted air and space around the boy. At all sides, tiles and rubble were blasted away or atomized by the dome of inverted temporal energy.

All about the arena no, the city, the depolarizing effects of the gravity well could be seen and felt. Debris was thrown into the air, turning the sky into a maelstrom of hap hazardous projectiles. Windows shattered, circuits and pipes burst, fires ignited, ...in short, the cityscape came to symbolize the turmoil that was taking place between Yeung and the titan that stood before him.

"_Contestant Yeung is surrounded by what can only be described as an energy shield!"_ screeched Mr. Firecracker. Mr. Satan's longtime side-kick lay face-flat on the grass, doing what he could to shield himself from flying debris. _"What otherworldly force is giving him this power?"_

Hard Copper was a bit taken back by this turn of events. Here it was, the power he had got a glimpse of in the first fight he and the boy shared. Now that he had brought it out, he was at a loss at how to approach it.

Walking towards the berserker youth, the giant reached forward with one massive hand and attempted to strike at the boy. However, upon connecting with the gravity well his hand opened up as if it had a steak knife taken to it. The man yanked the said mauled hand away from the energy field. Had he pushed on any further, he would not have had that hand much longer.

"My invincible iron-hard body?" stammered the giant. Yeung for his part had no sarcastic replies. The kid was entirely beholden to his new state of condition.

Trying yet again, Hard Copper charged up his signature move, this time at full power!

"HEAVEN's COMMAND WIND!" Thrusting forward with open palm, Hard Copper sent the razor wing laced energy wave hurtling at the empowered youth. The wave connected dead-on with the field only to be deflected away by the gravity well. The blast itself was sent careening into the skybox above the quad.

"The spectators are getting caught in the fireworks!" Bulma screamed.

"Wouldn't be a bad thing," muttered Oolong.

Yeung cackled hysterically at his now neutralized opponent. It was as if some otherworldly force had taken whatever sanity he had. Bringing up one hand, Yeung gathered ki onto a fine point. Upon reaching critical mass, the crazed youth let fly with the Crane School's signature attack.

"Dodonpa!"

Bright crimson blasts erupted from his finger like a machine gun, punishing his colossal adversary. Between the Dodonpa's penetration power, the arcs of white ether licking him, and the intense gravity well, Hard Copper couldn't even approach the boy. If not for his mighty hide, Hard Copper would have burned alive.

Holding up an elbow to shield his face, the announcer, Mr. Akira, tried his best to offer commentary. _"Ladies and Gents! Intense is the only word I can use to describe the maelstrom of things going down here at the Northern Kingdom Budokai!"_

"_INTENSE?" _screamed Mr. Firecracker incredulously, _"These guys are crazy!"_

Before too long, Hard Copper found himself pushed into a corner and on his knees. He had accomplished what he set out to do: Force Yeung's latent power to the surface. Needless to say, he was reaping the whirlwind. Just outside the ring Mercenary Toa threw taunts at his students' archrival…

"How ya like them apples huh?"

Through grit teeth, the Korrin giant squelched out, "I take as well as I give…" Cupping a hand to his side, the Mountain Lord launched a sun-bright ball of ki into Yeung's peripheral.

"Here goes nothing…" With one last exertion of his will, Hard Copper sent the blast sailing right into the ground just under Yeung, bypassing the event horizon entirely. The ki ball detonated, knocking the concrete flooring out from under the youth. The resulting flash and dust provided a smokescreen for the giant to slip out of the corner.

With a great leap, the hulking titan took to the air. Thinking on his feet, the Northern Champ brought his hands together in front of him. His entire strategy of engaging the freshly empowered youth hinged on one thing: An issue of chaos.

"HEAVEN's COMMAND WIND!" Again, Hard Copper employed his signature attack, only this time the wave did not leave his hands. The Genki Dama-like ball of life energy laced his palms with a white-hot glow as it connected with the gravity well. With the giant brute pressing down with cupped palms, there was nowhere for the energy to go but forward. With a loud 'THOOM!,' a hole was torn into the gravity well, allowing the Korrin colossus to slip through.

"He's in!" screeched a flabbergasted Toa.

The massive native locked hands with his smaller adversary in a grapple. With all their heaving might the two combatants dug in and pushed forward. Though the gravity well had reformed itself, it was useless now that Hard Copper was inside.

White ether arched violently against Hard Copper's rugged hide. Channeling some of his own ki, the giant held fast. The two powerful ki signatures flared into a bright pallor/red aura that lit up the late afternoon sky. The energy output eventually reached such a level that the two warriors began to rise off the ground. Between the two, a nexus of ki began to build and build until finally they were hurled apart by a massive backlash!

The concussive force of hundreds of blasts rocked the area as meteors of residual ki careened into the audience and the surrounding city. The two enemies came down opposite one another in what was left of the ring.

"If this continues, we won't have an audience much longer!" screeched Mr. Firecracker who was hunkered down behind a section of the ring.

"Believe me, this is nothing compared to the 23rd Tenkaichi!" Akira shouted back. "You get used to it!"

"Holy Shit!" hissed Krillain through grit teeth. "Maybe we get the others out of the stands!"

"Don't worry!" screamed Roshi, "Vegeta and Eighteen are with them!"

Clad in a deep red ember, Yeung's berserker state was a terrifying sight to behold. Hard Copper so long regarded as an unassailable juggernaut, was for the first time in his career left on the defensive.

"Ya know…," began Roshi, "Something's been bothering me."

"What's that Master?"

"For all the pummeling that big guy's taking, he still isn't as frazzled as he should be," answered the aged hermit.

"How so?" asked Tien with interest.

"I just have this funny feeling." The old turtle hermit couldn't place his finger on it. "There's just this staleness in the air, kinda like how the atmosphere gets heavy just before a storm sets in. Something's up! I feel it in my aching joints."

"So you noticed?"

Everyone looked down to see Korrin the Cat. "I guess I should tell you guys right now. Hard Copper has one more trump card to play."

"Huh!"

"It's something about the Korrin Tribes' intrinsic connection to the position of the Morning and Evening Star. For a limited time just as the sun sets, the planet Venus provides a boost in power from on high."

"How big a boost?" pressed Roshi.

"Big enough," answered the cat deity. "It was this boost that allowed that giant to finally catch me after climbing my tower."

"I remember that experience," said Roshi. "Took me three years to accomplish such a feat!"

"How long did it take _him_?" asked Tien quirking an eyebrow.

"About a week."

"Are you telling me that beast can become even more horrible?" Toa screeched.

"If that's the case, after the competition we may have to intervene."

Power Levels:

Rolo Yeung: 281

Rolo Yeung(berserker state): 500+

Hard Copper: 302

Hard Copper(Boosted by Evening Star): ?


End file.
